


Her Turn

by Mayalaen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, F/M, Gender Issues, Genderswap, Homophobia, Internalized cissexism, Oral Sex, Pegging, Rimming, Season 9, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, Transphobia, Vaginal Fingering, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 69,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayalaen/pseuds/Mayalaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knew from a very young age he was different than other boys, but after being told that boys don't do things like that, Dean decided to hide it. He's attracted to girls anyway, so it's not a big deal to put up a front, right?</p><p>The thing is, other than the fact it's responsible for giving him orgasms, he hates his dick, he doesn't like his tiny chest, and he figures there was a mistake somewhere along the way causing him to be born a boy. Dean has shared his secret with a few women over the years, and they've been surprisingly okay with it, but no one else knows, including Sam.</p><p>Dean gives up telling anyone about it or having any hope at all after Hell, after being rebuilt by an angel, because if even God has decided he belongs in a male body, then Dean must've been wrong all along. Until Charlie comes along and flips his world upside down.</p><p>Set in Season 9, but (spoilers) this fic poofs away Sam's possession issues, disregards the end of Slumber Party 9x04, gives Castiel his grace back, and even though he's adorable, poofs Kevin away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story is from Dean's POV, so the opinions/viewpoints are his, **NOT MINE**. The idea of what should or shouldn't be physically changed before a transgendered person should be allowed the pronoun of their choice was how I felt Dean would feel about it in this story, NOT how I feel about it.
> 
> Please see end notes for more info on gender issues.
> 
> Alternate Links: [My LJ](http://mayalaen.livejournal.com/7714.html) || [Original Prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/79365.html?thread=29501189#t29501189)

**Prologue**  
  
Dean knew John had tried to be a good dad. He'd loved his boys, done what he thought was right, prepared them for a world most people should never even know existed, let alone little boys that meant the world to him, little boys he wanted prepared for that world.  
  
That didn't mean John would have won Father of the Year. Sure, Dean loved his dad, and Dean believed his dad had done his best in most of the situations he'd been thrown into, but the older Dean got, the more he realized that some of the things John had done and said weren't what people would call accepting or open-minded.  
  
Dean swore to himself as a teenager that if he ever had kids, he'd love them no matter what, accept them no matter what. He'd let them be whoever they wanted to be. Dean knew his dad loved him, would kill and die for him, but the acceptance of whoever Dean wanted to be, well, that was an area where Dean was pretty sure his dad fell short.  
  
It wasn't until he was in his twenties, though, that Dean fully understood what he'd let his father and society do to him. Living the way they had, Dean wasn't exposed to a wide variety of people for more than a short period of time when he was helping them, and when someone was scared for their lives or being attacked by something supernatural, it wasn't the best time to sit down and discuss feelings and other shit like that.  
  
So Dean had stuffed his feelings down. He had built a wall. He'd developed a persona for himself. It worked well enough. He was attracted to girls his whole life anyway, so it was easy enough to fake the other shit.  
  
When it came to hanging out with guys at school, he'd quickly learned to act like the loner. Not only did girls get a kick out of that, but he didn't have to put up with teenage boys.  
  
Dean never fit in with boys. He felt disconnected. He never thought the way boys did. It was painfully obvious to him from a young age. It wasn't that he played with dolls or dressed up in pink outfits, danced about saying he was a pretty, pretty princess. No, Dean just knew his brain didn't work the way other boys' brains did.  
  
Right about the time girls were saying boys were stupid and gross, Dean began agreeing with them. Not that he never did gross things himself, he wasn't a big baby, but boys just had this way about them that grated on him when girls never grated.


	2. Part 1

Part 1

Then

1987

“Dad, I want to grow my hair long like hers,” a six-year-old Dean said to his dad, pointing to a little girl about his own age sitting a few tables over in a diner. The girl's hair was dirty blonde, parted to the side with a tiny butterfly barrette holding her curls in place.

Dad had smiled at Dean. “Boys don't have long hair, and boys certainly don't wear barrettes in their hair.”

Dean had frowned as he looked back at the little girl's hair. “Why?” Dean asked.

“They just don't, kiddo,” Dad said, and the smile slipped from his face as he looked at Dean.

Dean wasn't sure why at the time Dad had looked at him that way, but as he got older, he realized that's when John started to see that his son was different and that difference had scared the shit out of John.

“When you're a boy,” Dad said with a sad look in his eyes, “you can't have everything you want in life. That's life. You just gotta suck it up because that's what a man does, all right, buddy?”

Dean wanted his dad's approval, like all little kids do, so he said okay, stole covert glances at the little girl's hair until she left the diner with her grandparents, and finished his dinner.

\- - -

1989

Sarah and Dean had met a week ago when Dean had moved to town and started going to Springdale Elementary School. She came up to him at recess, asked if he'd wanted to play on the swings with her, and they'd become good friends by the end of the day.

Sarah's mom had set the two of them up out in the backyard with some lemonade, and Sarah had come outside with her My Little Pony collection and her brand new bottle of purple nail polish.

Eight-year-old Dean was so proud of the nice job he had done painting Sarah's nails, and Sarah had a big smile on her face as she held up her nails for him to see. He was so happy to have made her smile.

“Do you want me to paint your nails now so yours can be pretty like mine?” Sarah asked, holding the nail polish up and wagging it in Dean's face.

“Yeah!” Dean said without hesitation.

Sarah squealed, then very carefully painted Dean's nails for him. She was very good at keeping the paint on his nails, and she didn't get any on the skin of his fingers like Dean had done a little with hers.

Dean walked home an hour later, just in time for dinner. Dad was dishing up some goulash, and Sammy was sitting at the table with his spoon, all ready for his food.

“Dad, look! Sarah painted my nails for me! Aren't they pretty?” Dean said as he wriggled his fingers high in the air for his dad to see.

“Dean!” Dad said as he put the pan down on the potholder. He sounded exasperated. “Boys don't wear nail polish.”

“Why?” Dean asked as Dad took him by the arm and led him into the bathroom. He wasn't being rough, so Dean assumed this wasn't a huge deal.

“Because they just don't,” Dad said, picking Dean up and sitting him down on the counter.

“But I like it. It looks nice,” Dean said with a pout.

Dad got a bottle of clear liquid out from under the sink, doused a cotton ball with whatever was in the bottle, and then cleaned off Dean's nails. Dean's nose scrunched up at the strong smell, but he sat still and let his dad clean off his nails.

“But, dad, I like them!” Dean said a little louder, not pulling his hands away, but clearly upset about what his dad was doing.

“That's enough, Dean,” Dad said as he wiped Dean's fingers completely clean of any trace of the pretty purple nail polish.

Dean knew better than to throw a temper tantrum, but he was upset. He didn't cry, although his eyes were stinging. Dad had put his foot down, and Dean wanted to ask why, because Dad's answer hadn't really explained anything at all.

Dean washed his hands to get the stinky cleaner off, then followed Dad back out to the kitchen. Dean was quickly distracted by Sam having gotten goulash down the front of his shirt, so the issue of his nails was forgotten for the night.

Dean thought about what had happened for a really long time as he lay in bed that night, his flashlight playing over the cracks and imperfections in the ceiling. He didn't understand why girls got to do different things than boys, and he just wasn't satisfied with the answer of “just because.”

The next day was Monday, and since Dad hadn't given him a good answer, Dean decided he'd ask a teacher. He found a teacher, walked up to him, and asked, “Why can't boys do the same things girls do?”

Mr. Jessup had smiled at Dean, gestured toward the restrooms they were standing by, and had said very kindly and patiently, “Boys and girls need to have separate restrooms because they have different bodies and they need restrooms that are made just for them.”

Dean hadn't been asking about the restrooms, and it frustrated Dean, but he didn't want to backtalk a teacher, so he said, “Okay, well, thanks, Mr. Jessup.”

It still wasn't a clear answer to Dean. He knew boys and girls had different body parts. He wasn't stupid. Dad had been very open with him whenever Dean asked about stuff like that.

Dean found it silly that the other kids at school would giggle and blush whenever they talked about the differences between boys and girls' bodies, and he found it even more silly that some of the kids' parents had lied to them about those things. He didn't understand what good it did to lie about stuff that everybody had, to make up stories about babies when the truth wasn't really all that complicated.

Anyway, Mr. Jessup smiled at Dean, then walked away, so Dean ran outside to find Sarah. There were ten minutes left for recess, and he really wanted to play with her.

“Why did you take your nail polish off?” Sarah asked with a hurt look on her face, pointing at his nails.

Dean felt horrible. He really liked Sarah, and she'd worked so hard on his nails. The fact that her nails were still purple hurt his chest, because he'd really liked his nails painted, and Sarah had done it for him.

He was a little embarrassed that his dad had reacted that way, and he didn't want to tell Sarah the truth both because of the embarrassment and because he didn't want to hurt her feelings. It wasn't her fault that Dad had taken the nail polish off. Dean knew that in his heart.

“Sorry, Sarah,” he said as he held up his hands. “I was helping Dad clean something, and I didn't notice until I was done, but it washed off all the nail polish.”

“Oh,” Sarah said, the bridge of her nose scrunching up while she thought about it for a moment, then her face changed, a smile taking over her face, making her look happy again. “Okay, so do you want to play on the swings or the slides?”

Dean smiled at her, relieved that he managed to keep from hurting her feelings. “Slides!” he said as he took her by the hand and they ran to the slides.

\- - -

1990

When Dean was nine years old, he was invited to a birthday party. Dad seemed happy that Dean was interested in playing with kids his age, so Dad drove him to the party, promising Sammy a pizza and movie night at home so Sam would stop whining about missing out on the party.

The kids at the party quickly separated into groups of boys and girls. Dean hadn't thought much of it at the time, and he'd just migrated toward the girls' group because he was more interested in what they were talking about and what they were doing anyway.

It wasn't a conscious decision of “I want to be with the girls instead of the boys,” but rather it was just where he'd ended up.

Ian, one of the boys at the party, saw Dean with the girls. Later Dean would remember Ian Sanders' name well, because even at only nine years old, this boy was responsible for Dean's epiphany, though Dean hadn't even known what that word meant yet.

Ian walked up to Dean, who was sitting on the floor with the girls in a circle. “Why are you playing with the girls and not the boys?”

Dean was puzzled by the question, but he answered anyway. “I just wanted to,” he said with a shrug, because really that was the only reason. There wasn't some deep philosophical meaning to his actions or anything.

Ian laughed at him, pointing and smirking. “Are you gonna let them paint your nails, Deanie?” Ian teased loudly, drawling out every other word like he was the funniest comedian ever. “Are you all gonna braid each others hair? Why don't you let them dress you up like a girl, and then when we play spin the bottle, maybe you can get one of the boys to kiss you!”

Dean was shocked speechless. Sure, Dad had said things before like “boys don't play with dolls” and “boys don't paint their nails” when Dean had shown an interest in each of those things, but it was a totally different thing to have it thrown in his face that he was different from the other boys and that actually all those things Ian had said sounded like fun other than the part about kissing a boy. That one was just eww!

Before Ian, Dean had thought other boys felt the way he did. It didn't matter that Dad had said boys don't do those things. Dean was a kid, so he'd always figured it was the same as “kids shouldn't run out into the street” and “only grownups can look at the magazines you found in Daddy's duffel bag.” Other boys wanted to play with the same things Dean wanted to, adults just didn't let them, right?

As Dean sat there, staring up at Ian with a dumbfounded look on his face, Allison, one of the girls in his group, stood up, shoved Ian so hard in the chest that he fell on his ass with a grunt, and then she said, “Leave him alone. We'd rather play with him than you anyway because he's much more fun than you, asswipe.”

Dean turned to look at Allison with a feeling growing in his chest, a feeling that made his lungs feel too big, like they were going to burst. Allison had accepted him without question. She'd even said she'd rather play with him than Ian, even though Ian was “so cute,” according to all the girls in his class, which he never agreed with anyway, but that wasn't the point.

“Don't worry about him, Dean,” Allison said with more confidence than Dean had ever heard from another kid. “He's just jealous because you're doing what you really want to do instead of what somebody else tells you that you should do.”

Allison then grabbed Dean's hand, dragged him closer to her, and along with all the other girls in the circle, completely ignored Ian and began another round of telephone.

Allison became Dean's first girlfriend, the title becoming official by the end of the night when she asked if he wanted to go steady and have lunch with her at the cafeteria the following Monday.

When the other kids at school found out he had a girlfriend, the little bit of teasing he'd endured over the weekend abruptly stopped. Apparently, Dean learned, if you hang around with girls and don't have a girlfriend, you're a complete freak, but if you hang around with girls and you got a girlfriend out the deal, you're really cool. Therefore, Dean was cool.

So even though Dean's epiphany had changed him drastically on the inside, if anything, his outside appearance had already cemented him as a normal boy, and Dean didn't do anything to dissuade anyone's notions about him.

\- - -

1991

Dad was proud of him, and Dean was very happy that his dad was proud of him. Dean had a few more girlfriends after Allison, though all they'd done was hold hands and exchange a few kisses that were more like pecks.

Dad had talked to him plenty of times about being nice to girls, being careful with sex when he did decide to have it, and Dad had even gave him some pointers on how to make girls happy both in bed and in general so Dean could be a good boyfriend.

Ian was a big reason for Dean to not only realize a lot of things about himself, but he also was the reason Dean built up his persona, and not many people ever knew anything but Dean's persona.

It wasn't like Dean closed his real self off completely. He was just careful what he let slip. His life wasn't a complete lie, and nearly everything Sam knew about Dean was completely true.

Dean met a girl named Kayla at the end of the school year after turning twelve. Kayla was a year older than him, so they didn't share the same classes, but she was fun to be around, and they ate lunch together every day.

Kayla had gotten a makeup case for Christmas, and since she was very careful with her things, there was still plenty left by the time school was out.

Dean and Kayla played at her house because she had some really cool toys, and Kayla loved doing makeovers on Dean. Dean wasn't a huge fan of blush and eyeshadow, and the lipstick would get stuck on his teeth, but he really liked Kayla, and she really liked him, and anything that made her smile was worth in Dean's eyes.

Kayla had some makeup remover that Dean would use before he left her house. He knew his dad wouldn't like it if he found out Dean was wearing makeup. Dean hadn't ever asked, hadn't ever come home with it on, but considering the nail polish incident, Dean assumed makeup would get the same reaction.

One night Kayla and Dean had been making and then playing with origami fortune tellers, which Dean hadn't known how to make, so Kayla was showing him how to make really cool ones.

They hadn't played makeover, but Dean couldn't resist putting on a little bit of lipstick, not caring it would get on his teeth because it made his lips look pretty. They played until it was time for Dean to grab Sam, who had been playing with Kayla's little brother downstairs, and get home to order a pizza.

Dad had just pulled into the driveway of the apartment complex when Dean and Sam had walked up. Sam ran inside while Dean took Dad's duffel from the back seat of the car.

“What's that on your lips?” Dad asked, his eyebrows drawn down.

Dean felt a rush of panic run through his body, but he kept his cool. Even at twelve, Dad had taught him well how to play people.

“Kayla had lipstick on,” Dean said with a leer and a waggle of his eyebrows.

Dad laughed, ruffling Dean's hair. “That's my boy,” he said as they walked to the apartment.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he followed his dad. John had assumed, just like most other people, that Dean's persona was the real thing. It kind of hurt that his dad hadn't seen through it, but Dean also knew Dad wouldn't like what was beneath that persona.

\- - -

Over the years, a few girls had noticed small things, but they never got the whole picture. Rhonda Hurley had been thrilled when Dean agreed to wear her pink panties, but other than the whole thing being a big realization for Dean that some women got a kick out of men wearing women's panties sometimes, he hadn't really told her about anything else.

And Dean would be forever grateful to Rhonda for not only his realization of girls getting a kick out of that, but also that he himself got a huge kick out of it. Her panties felt so soft, and if only his dick and balls weren't in the way, the panties would have fit perfectly, but he'd take what he could get.

Dean kept a pair of panties underneath the rest of his things in his duffel bag after he was with Rhonda. They weren't hers, but he'd had no trouble going out and buying a pair at the store. He'd lied and said they were for his girlfriend, and the salesgirl had cooed over what a wonderful boyfriend he must be, and Dean had a great time picking them out with the salesgirl's help.

He was careful about when and where he wore them. He knew better than to wear them on a hunt, because if he'd gotten hurt, he might've needed to be stripped by dad or Sam. He enjoyed panties, but he wasn't careless with them.

He loved looking at himself in the mirror with them on. The muted maroon color looked so pretty with his skin tone, and the way it hugged his body, the way the lace at his waist tickled his skin, it made something fall into place inside him. Something he never thought would feel so right.

The panties weren't a completely sexual thing, but that didn't mean he didn't jerk off plenty of times into the panties.

\- - -

Meeting Cassie was both the worst and the best thing that ever happened to him. She wasn't a stupid girl, so she'd seen through his carefully-made persona so quickly that it had taken Dean's breath away.

She was okay with it. She was accepting in a way Dean wished everyone could be. She didn't act like it was something that needed to be talked about or something that needed to be focused on. It was simply who Dean was, and she wanted Dean, all of him.

Except that she didn't. Dean had figured since Cassie had dealt with his gender issues so well, she'd have no problem accepting the supernatural. In his mind, he'd built up his gender issues to the point where the supernatural was a piece of cake in comparison.

It hurt. A lot. She wasn't mean about it, and she reassured Dean it had nothing to do with him as a person, but Dean had always thought of true love in a romantic way. True love was something that broke through barriers, was unconditional like you see in the movies, and that if someone just loved him enough, they wouldn't care about anything else.

After all, wasn't Dad's entire mission in life seeking revenge on the demon that destroyed the fairy tale romance that was Mary and John Winchester?

It wasn't until his experience with Cassie that Dean's romanticized view of love got shattered. Sure, there could be romance, and there could be love, but no one's love was completely unconditional, no matter how much a person thought it was. So Cassie had been the worst and best thing that had ever happened to him.

\- - -

Lisa? Well, she was so much fun that Dean couldn't have cared less if she'd accepted anything else. They'd done everything together, including pegging, which was a first for Dean at the time, and he discovered that he'd really liked it.

She took charge in the bedroom, and he gladly gave her that control. Not that he was a slouch in bed, but rather she came up with all the stuff they did, had the toys to play with, and when it came time for their weekend to be over, she was the one who let him know fun times were had by all, it was time to go back to their real lives, and it would be great if he could stop by every once in a while to do it all over again.

Dean knew he wasn't the type to settle down, at least not yet. And even when Sam made him promise that he'd settle down with Lisa, Dean knew it wouldn't work. Lisa was great. He even loved her, would always love her, but settling down wasn't for Dean. Not yet.

But Dean had skipped ahead in his musings, in this story of his life. Mostly because the thing he'd skipped over had been something that really rocked his world in a bad way, made him question everything about himself, and hurt so badly that he wished he could erase it from his head.

Dean had always thought that maybe he'd just accidentally been given a male body. He knew about biology. He knew that an extra few doses of testosterone or estrogen while a baby was developing had a big enough impact on a person that it could make a girl a tomboy or a boy more effeminate. So he figured some kind of accident happened when he was developing. Accidents happened, right?

But when he'd been remade as a male by an angel, an angel sent by God, well, it was a huge blow to everything he'd ever known.

Angels and God had seen him as male, without a question. And they should know. So maybe Dean was just confused. Or maybe he was fucked in the head. Maybe he was just a pervert who liked women's clothes and liked women so much he didn't even care to be around a guy other than his own brother.

Whatever it was, Dean seriously reevaluated his lot in life. After all the chaos died down from his resurrection, meeting an angel, and all of the utter ridiculousness of the shit the angels pulled on them and everyone else in the world, Dean gave up.

Not on life. He didn't really want to die. But he gave up on letting himself be who he was on the inside. It didn't even hurt anymore. He was too numb from life, from Hell, and from fighting for something that never should have been in the first place.

Drinking helped. And the fact that he still wanted to fuck girls helped. Dean liked sex. It was fun, it was a distraction, and making a woman come over and over again was something that never got old, something he was very good at.

The strangest part of the whole gender thing, in Dean's opinion, was that none of it had been used against him in Hell. He figured everything was used against everyone in Hell. When it was his turn to torture souls, he'd used everything he could find against them.

So it was a mindfuck in and of itself to have Alastair completely ignore something so significant about Dean as his gender issues.

And of course that made him question how much of it had been real and how much had been something he'd built up in his head.

\- - -

Everything came to a head when he met Charlie. She was great. He instantly felt something for her. And when he'd found out she was a lesbian, a part of him craved that feeling he used to let himself have around women like Rhonda, Cassie, and Lisa, but he'd been hit too many times in life. He was tired of getting back up again.

He figured Charlie would want nothing to do with him sexually. She seemed to like him as a person, and she was so funny and adorable that he wished for more. She was just so damned cute!

And even though she was scared of the supernatural, she didn't back down. Dean could respect that in anyone, especially a hot chick.

But she was giving him calculated looks, and she was smarter than most people gave her credit for at first glance.

\- - -

Now

So even though Dean had given up on letting himself be who he really was around one-night stands, whether he thought they might be up for it or not, it isn't a complete surprise when Charlie comes to his room at the bunker and pulls two bottles of beer out from behind her back as she flops down on his bed.

He smiles on the inside because he realizes she's probably trying to liquor him up, trying to get him to open up and talk to her, but the poor girl doesn't know how much liquor it would take to get him thoroughly sloshed, and it isn't one damn beer.

She holds a bottle out to him, waggling it back and forth with a grin on her face. Dean chuckles. He can't help it. As previously mentioned, she's damn cute.

Dean sits down on the bed, turned toward Charlie, takes the beer from her hand with a grateful smile and takes a sip.

“So, Dean,” she says in a way that seems like it could get awkward soon.

But Charlie has always had this amazing ability to be un-awkwardly awkward. Dean doesn't know how to describe it other than that, but it's part of what he's grown to love about her.

“So, Charlie,” Dean says as he relaxes back against the head of his bed, comfortable in his T-shirt, jeans, and socks.

“I have this really strong urge to do something with you,” Charlie blurts, then runs her fingers through her hair nervously. “I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think if I leave it up to you, you're never going to bring it up or do anything about it. And I think you really do want to bring it up, because I think it's something you really want. And if I'm totally off base here, just tell me and I'll never bring it up again, but you have to swear never to bring it up again and use it against me. Because I care about you, and that's why I'm bringing it up. It's not because I want to humiliate you or something like that. So don't hate me,” she says, ending with a wince.

“Breathe,” Dean says with a small smile on his face. The words are hitting him, making his stomach clench because he has an idea what she wants to talk about, but Charlie rambling on is so adorably her that he can't help but smile.

Charlie takes a deep breath, then bites her lip, plays with the hem of her tan V-neck shirt, which makes her tits look awesome, in Dean's opinion.

“I have to just say it. And for the love of god, please stop me if I'm saying something really, really stupid before I finish it, and please don't hate me,” she repeats.

Dean chuckles. “I'm not gonna hate you, Charlie,” he assures her. “Blurt it out. Just get it over with.”

“Okay, fine,” she says, then seems to consider her words for a moment. She looks up at him with determination shining in her eyes. “I think you're not comfortable in your own skin, that you want to be on the outside who you are in the inside, but it hasn't happened for whatever reason, and it's made you give up.

“I think you've stuffed it down so deep that you think nobody sees it, but I'm seeing something because you can't stuff something like this down completely, and it's hurting you, and I really like you, and I want to help you, and stop looking at me with that adorable mix of apprehension, excitement, and relief,” she finishes with a pout.

Dean doesn't know what to say, and he sits there staring at her as if she's a bomb about to go off. She still hasn't said flat out he's a woman trapped in man's body, and Charlie might not have even gotten that far in her observations, but she's close enough that the apprehension, excitement, and relief she saw on his face was exactly right.

He looks down at his beer bottle and picks at the label, not wanting her to see how vulnerable he feels. He can't let himself be that vulnerable.

“Am I wrong and I should shut up and we forget everything I just –,” Charlie starts.

“No,” Dean interrupts, then lets out a nervous chuckle, but still stares at his beer, still picks at the label. “You're not wrong. I'm just wondering how far you've taken this idea in your head and how close it is to the truth.”

“So,” Charlie drawls. “I'm not just reading you wrong?” she asks.

Dean shakes his head. He wants to look up at her. It's becoming hard to keep his eyes on the bottle, but he's scared of what she'll see, what he'll see. “No,” he says, but he doesn't know what else to say.

“How long have you felt like you don't fit in?” she asks with nothing but care and concern in her voice. There's no censure, no judgment.

Dean chuckles awkwardly and leans his head back against the wall, his eyes closing. That conveniently lets him hide for just a little longer. “I figured it out at a birthday party when I was nine years old,” he says softly.

“Uhm, okay,” Charlie says, obviously floundering for what to say, hoping he'll fill in a few blanks, or maybe even just confirm what she probably already knew instead of simply filling in blanks.

Dean sighs, shoves the bottle down between his legs, then plays with the mouth of the bottle with his fingers. “I was different before then, but the party was the eye opener,” Dean says with a huff of laughter over something that wasn't all that funny. “I didn't always hide it. There were a few women over the years who have known or have found out or ones who I've told, and they've been really okay with it. Surprisingly okay with it. Others who didn't handle it so well,” Dean says vaguely.

“So since you're apparently not going to put me out of my awkward misery, I'll just have to make an educated guess,” Charlie says, and Dean lifts his head up to look her in the eye finally. “You've always fit in with the girls instead of the boys and you've thought you should've been born a girl instead of a boy, and you've always been attracted to women, so it allowed you to, in a relatively easily way, keep up the facade of heterosexual ladies' man.”

Dean doesn't know what to say, so he just nods, feeling numb. He purposely had kept eye contact with her, learning in the past that it was a good tell for women, made it easy to spot if they were okay with him or not.

Women were always fairly easy to read for Dean. Not in the way men were. Women didn't blurt out their feelings or proclaim it for the world through body language and loud remarks like men. No, women were usually subtle, even the ones who were more loudmouthed and brash. It's all in the minute changes of their posture, the tension in their shoulders, the changes in their eyes, the small movements of their lips, where they look, and everything in between the words they say.

Charlie's not disgusted. There's still no judgment. She's concerned, obviously cares about him, but there's no pity, no motherly instinct kicking in and forcing her to come to his rescue. She's looking at him with confidence even though her words might tell the average observer she's unsure of herself.

And maybe she is a little hesitant, but it's only because she wants to be delicate about this, doesn't want to hurt him with lack of tact, and it's not because she's unsure whether or not she's right about this.

Playing with the hem of her shirt gives her something to do with her fingers, not out of a nervous habit, but because he can tell she wants to touch him, even if it's just to rest her hand on his knee.

Dean has no idea why men have such a hard time reading women other than they're probably just not paying attention. Sure, women can be sneaky, they can hide their feelings under layers of subterfuge, but if you care enough to figure them out, a women will tell you everything you want to know with every atom of her being, and if you earn her trust, she'll give you the world.

“Have you ever told your family?” Charlie asks, tilting her head to the side in a way that Dean finds adorable.

Dean shakes his head. “No, not directly. My dad was the type of guy who said boys don't play with dolls, which I was never interested in anyway, and even though I never said anything to him or let the whole truth show in front of him, I don't think he would've handled it well because of how he handled the things I did let slip as a kid. And with Sam, I really don't know how he would've reacted, but I never tried with him either.”

There's still no pity on her face or in her body language. There is, however, a subtle straightening of her posture that shows intent, shows that she thinks she can help.

“Do you want to do anything about it?” Charlie asks. “I mean you've been doing this for a long time, I know that, but you don't have to. And I don't want to put you on the spot or anything, but I want to help. You have this way about you, this look on your face like you've given up, and I want to do something about it, because I really do like you.”

Dean smiles at her. “I really like you too,” he admits, though he figures she doesn't know how much he likes her. Then he thinks about the rest of what she said. “Oh, about the whole giving up thing,” he says with a big sigh, runs his fingers through his hair, but doesn't elaborate yet.

Charlie holds up a hand. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but like I said, I'd really like to help,” she says with a hopeful look on her face, her hand going back to her lap, fingers teasing the hem of her shirt again.

Dean can't resist being honest. She's being genuine. She's not teasing him or walking away. Her posture, body language, facial expressions all say she's safe. He can tell her.

“You know all that shit about me going to Hell and coming back?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, and Dean's relieved that there's no look of pain or disgust on her face when Hell is brought up.

“That's about the time I gave up,” he says with a sad smile. This part hurts, and he feels it in his chest before he even says it. “When Cas brought me back, he made me this body,” he says pointing at himself.

She takes that in. “Oh, I see,” Charlie says with a wrinkling of her nose, almost like she's a little pissed. Her voice when she speaks again gives an edge of challenge. “So an angel remakes you, and because you'd grown up thinking it was a mistake that you were in a male body, it totally blew you away to have an angel throw it in your face that it wasn't a mistake, you had the right body the whole time, so you figured you were wrong all your life and you should just suck it up and live with it, right?”

Dean looks back down at the beer bottle. His chest is hurting even more, and he doesn't know if he wishes Charlie were less observant or if he likes that she's seen this about him. He likes commiserating with women. Never felt right with men. And she's practically begging.

The challenging tone in her voice turns into fire. “Well, I think that's bullshit,” she says indelicately.

Dean looks back up at her, surprised by the conviction in her voice. “What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

She snorts. “How do you know Cas didn't just remake your body that way because he was doing just that; remaking your body?” Charlie asks as if he's a dork for never thinking of it that way

Dean's mind is blown. It's blown so badly that it must show on his face because Charlie's expression softens some. “I, uhm, hadn't thought of it that way,” he admits, a sheepish grin on his face, and he feels his cheeks flush.

“You've said before that angels are so totally different from humans,” Charlie argues.

She sets her bottle down on the floor beside her, and Dean knows it's because she wants to involve her hands in the conversation. It's another one of those things he really likes about her.

Charlie looks him in the eye, her hands already getting involved now that they're freed up. She waves toward the ceiling. “They're built for carrying out God's will. Even though they have the ability to have emotions, they're still awkward and have a hard time fitting in with humans even after being with them for a long time,” she says, then smacks his leg. “So what makes you think Cas wasn't just doing his job, carrying on in his mission from God by recreating you?”

His head's spinning. “I hadn't thought of that,” Dean says softly, feeling stupid for it never having occurred to him. He shrugs. “I just figured Cas saw me, inside and out, and saw that everything about me was male and recreated that.”

“Did you ever ask him?” she asks, her hands going out to her sides in a posture Dean likes to call a woman's 'well, did ya?' pose.

Dean shakes his head. “No. I didn't see a need to ask,” he says, setting his bottle down on the nightstand. “And I figured I was fucked in the head, so I just assumed he did the whole soul searching, creating-me-the-perfect-body thing, that's why he did it, and I gave up on ever having anything else.”

“Did Cas tell you that you were fucked in the head?” Charlie asks with her hands flopping down onto the bed on either side of her, fingers clenched and showing that she's ready to punch Cas in the face if he did say that.

Dean thinks about that for a moment, tries to remember if Cas ever even implied it. “Well, no,” he admits, sheepish grin on his face again.

Charlie rolls her eyes, her fingers relaxing now that the possible need to punch Castiel in the face has passed. “From what you guys have told me, you were supposed to be the righteous man,” she says, then uses her index finger to poke him in the chest, “and don't get me started on how things can get lost in translation as far as the whole man versus woman versus human thing,” Charlie says with a roll of her eyes, “but anyway, why would an angel let something that big go without saying anything about it? Why would he side with you, disobey Heaven and fall for you if he thought you were that fucked in the head or perverted or whatever?”

Dean feels as if he's been punched in the gut. “I don't know,” Dean whispers.

Charlie obviously can't take it anymore. She has to touch, so she reaches out and rests her right hand on his calf. “Has Cas ever sat you down and given you the 'boys play with toy cars, girls play with dolls' speech and tried to set you straight?” she asks.

“No,” Dean mumbles, liking the warmth of her hand on his leg.

“Well then snap out of it!” Charlie nearly growls as she flings her arms out to the side, the bed shaking with her enthusiasm. “You feel like this your whole life, you squash it down, only letting yourself out to play a few times with a few women, then completely squash it down just because some angel gave you a look-alike body,” she says incredulously, then she scowls at him. “I say fuck that. If God can accept murderers and rapists if they repent, why can't he accept someone he's already damn well accepted who has felt like she's in the wrong body her whole life.”

The change in pronouns makes Dean's eyes widen and his breath catches in his throat. No one has ever said anything like that to him outside the bedroom. Not even Cassie had switched and used she or her outside the bedroom. And Dean considered bedroom time roleplay, so it never meant more than fun.

A grin spreads across Charlie's lips. “That felt good, didn't it?” she asks, watching him carefully.

Dean chuckles and blinks away the tears that had started to form in his eyes. “You're evil,” he says as he points at her, trying for light before he starts bawling all over the place.

She chuckles, then her smile dies away, and in its place comes a serious look. “What's in your pants doesn't define you,” she says, her hand coming to rest on his calf again. “People are so stuck on physical appearance even when they want to be all politically correct and accepting and see what's on the inside, and it usually doesn't happen until you truly get to know someone, but Dean, what's on the inside really does matter more than what's on the outside,” she says as she squeezes his calf.

Dean puts his hand over hers. “That all sounds good, but the steps toward that seem...,” he trails off with a huff. “Well, they don't seem all that fun or easy.”

Charlie tilts her head. “You have to do what's right for you, but like I said, I want to help,” she says with a reassuring smile. “As you know, I'm a woman,” she says with a chuckle, and it makes him laugh. “And as you also know, I really, really like women, and I really like you, so who better to help you with this?”

There's nothing but sincerity coming from Charlie. And he wants this so badly. He's scared. Hell, he's scared out of his mind of what this could all mean, how people would react, but he's never been all that much for conforming to society anyway, so why should he give a shit?

“We could start small,” she says with a grin, a raised eyebrow. “You don't have to tell anybody. Or you could decide you want to go all out and have a party and dance around in a sexy teddy!” she says as if she finds the idea of a party very exciting, and she bounces on the bed a little in her excitement.

Dean laughs. “Oh, god, no. I'm not ready for that,” he says as he shakes his head.

“Then we start slow. Not a problem!” she says with complete confidence, and he can feel the excitement growing in the room. It's coming from her, and it's giving him hope.

And the way she says it, how easy it sounds, how 'normal' it sounds, well, it makes Dean's shoulders relax a bit. She's made it sound easier than he'd built it up to be in his head. She makes it sound as if it's something he could try.

“Oh, and just to get the disclaimers out of the way,” she says as she smacks his leg. “If we start doing all this and you decide you don't like it or it's not for you, I'm not going to have a problem with it. I'm not going to tease you or say you're a failure. It's just you, and I already like you, and I'm not going to stop liking you just because you've decided lacy panties aren't your thing.”

Dean groans loudly, his eyes falling shut and his head thunking against the wall. He feels Charlie hop off the bed, and he looks up at her, her face alight with 'I'm so thrilled I can't stand it' written all over it.

“Now I totally know what we're doing first!” she says as she bounces on her toes. “We are so getting you panties! Come on! Come with me!” Charlie says, then gasps, her eyes widening even more. “Let's both get some! Ooh! We can get matching panties!”

Dean feels his dick twitch as he chuckles, and he hopes Charlie doesn't notice that his dick is interested. Well, even if she does, he can blame it on the panties themselves, which really is something he wants as well as being a turn on personally, but it also is the idea of seeing Charlie in panties.

\- - -

Dean tenses as they get closer to the doors of the lingerie store. Since Charlie's holding his hand out of sheer enthusiasm, she has to be able to feel him tense.

She stops, turns to him, and gets a stern look on her face. “There's a difference between telling everyone your personal business and being comfortable enough with yourself to leave things up to imagination.”

“Huh?” Dean says with a puzzled expression. He feels very out of his element even though he's gone into lingerie stores before. He's bought panties under the guise of being an awesome boyfriend, but this time is different.

Charlie snorts and grabs him by the chin. “Just because we tell the salesgirl I'm your girlfriend and you're picking out panties for me doesn't mean we're compromising or selling out or conforming to society's standards. We're picking our battles,” she says.

Dean chuckles, the anxious feeling that had crept in receding. “Okay. Thanks,” he says, feeling silly now for having thought Charlie would announce his real intentions for purchasing panties to the entire store.

Charlie grins, grabs his hand again. “And if we happen to grab a few pairs of panties that are a few sizes bigger than my size, that's nobody's business but ours,” she chirps, then drags him inside the store.


	3. Part 2

Part 2

Two and a half hours later and three bags full of lingerie later, Charlie and Dean get back to the bunker and sneak to Dean's room. Dean still isn't comfortable with Sam knowing about any of this, and Charlie has reassured him multiple times that it's okay, that he may never feel comfortable enough to tell Sam, but it's his choice.

There's something new with Charlie too. Walking into the lingerie store was a turning point in Charlie's speech patterns. Dean hopes she won't say anything like this around Sam, and Dean figures Charlie won't because she's just that cool about it all, but Charlie has been calling him Dee and has made a couple of comments about “how pretty this will look on you” and even offhandedly commented when Dean picked up a green tank top, “She knows what'll go with her beautiful green eyes!” to no one in particular, but it made Dean smile.

Dean's not sure if he's ready for Sam to hear things like this. But it's growing on him, and the first few times Charlie called him Dee, he felt a thrill go through his body. And the way Charlie says Dee sounds so natural, like a shortening of his name and one that can be taken as just that instead of a feminizing of his name means that Dean doesn't really have to worry about it even in front of Sam. Charlie is so... Charlie.

And if she called him Dee in front of Sam, Sam might tease him a bit for it, but only because it's so adorable, and Sam would just have to because he's Dean's brother. Brothers have to tease. It's in the sibling handbook.

Whatever it is Charlie's doing, Dean's warming up to the idea quickly. It feels good down to his core. Charlie is more than accepting. She's more than helping him. And he's more than just falling in love with her a little bit.

“Try them on! Try them on!” Charlie squeals as Dean closes his bedroom door behind them.

He turns around and nearly falls over his own two feet as he sees Charlie pulling her shirt off. His mouth drops open and he flat out stares at her.

She looks at him over her shoulder. “Clothes! Off! We couldn't try them on in the store, so you have to now! I wanna see!” she demands.

She has so much excitement in her voice that it stops Dean from staring, but then he hesitates when he realizes she means he should strip right here, right now. Not that he minds getting naked in front of a chick, but usually there's sex involved.

“Clothes! C'mon!” Charlie says as she looks over her shoulder again. She unhooks her plain black bra and flings it into the corner of the room.

He knows she knows he's hesitating, that he's not sure what to do. And he knows she's purposely trying to lighten the mood to get him to just forget about his reservations and just go for it. So that's what he does. His boots go first, then his shirt.

By the time he's undoing his belt, Charlie's completely naked, and he tries not to stare at her adorably perfect ass, tries to work at getting his clothes off, but it's hard.

And speaking of hard.

Dean freezes. He can't take his pants off now. He wouldn't even get away with hiding it if Charlie were to turn around right now.

He grumbles to himself. Dicks are so inconvenient. He shouldn't have to deal with this. Dicks are ugly, messy, and there's no way in hell to hide it if you're aroused. It's like dicks have a mind of their own and want everyone else to know what's going on.

Pussy is perfect, in Dean's opinion, and not for the first time he wishes he had one. They're so pretty and soft, and even when they do get messy, it just makes them more fun to lick and suck. But he has a dick, and he wishes he had a bag of ice to shove down his pants to get rid of the growing inconvenience.

“Nobody's in complete control of their bodies,” Charlie sing-songs loudly. “I'm not going to run away screaming just because you're hard.”

Dean blushes hard and lets out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry,” he says, not knowing what to do with his hands.

“Don't be sorry,” she says as she starts pulling their recent purchases out of the bag nearest to her. “I have a cute ass, as I've been told many times, and it leads to reactions from body parts,” she says as she turns to him, batting her eyelashes.

Dean lets out a bark of laughter, then decides to just do it. He takes a deep breath and just undoes his pants, pulls them off, and gets his socks off. He tries to ignore the semi he's got going on and walks over to the bed, where Charlie has spread out some of their new panties.

She's looking over their choices. “You should probably try these first, at least until your dick calms down a bit and you can fit inside some of the smaller ones,” she says as she holds up a pair of panties that have a little more substance to them than some of the other panties they've bought.

Dean takes the panties from her, and his cock twitches at the idea of putting them on. Charlie had picked these panties for him. They're light blue cotton boy shorts with bright pink trim around the waist and the same bright pink around the legs in lace. They're simple, and Dean had expected Charlie to go with thongs and more revealing panties, but he figured she knew what she was doing. He wasn't complaining.

He's momentarily distracted, getting his first fairly good glimpse of Charlie's pussy. From what he can see, Charlie's got just a little tuft of dark red hair at the top of her pussy, and the rest looks like it's either shaved or waxed. He tries not to stare, closes his eyes a moment to stop himself, then remembers the panties in his hand.

Dean pulls them on, not really knowing what to do with his very hard cock once he gets the panties up, and he yelps when Charlie just grabs his dick, holds it against his pelvic area to the left, and pulls the panties up around it, letting the waist snap up against his lower belly, the panties bulging out obscenely around his dick, but still managing to covering it.

“Mmm, very nice!” Charlie says, nearly growling and clearly checking him out. “Turn around, sexy,” she says with a twirl of her fingers.

Dean does as he's told, feeling only slightly ridiculous until he finally notices how nice the panties feel. They're the perfect size. Charlie had done a great job with picking them. Dean shivers when he feels Charlie's finger run over the lace, and it's then that he realizes the back side of the leg holes curve up a bit, leaving his lower ass cheeks outside the panties.

“Your ass looks amazing in these,” Charlie informs him, practically leering.

He does feel sexy. He feels soft and warm at the same time. He feels right. Even though his dick is hard, he's never been in a situation where he's wearing panties with someone else right there and it's not a sexual thing. He kind of wishes it was sexual, but at the same time it's nice to share this with Charlie. He'll take her however he can get her, and this right here is fun, and it'll have to be enough.

“Put on the tank top,” Charlie says, holding the matching top out to him.

He slides it on, loving how it molds perfectly to his upper body. The straps are about half an inch wide and bright pink, just like the trim on the boy shorts. The body of the top is the same light blue as the boy shorts, and the cotton is very soft.

“That. Is. Hot,” Charlie breathes as she stands back and checks him out from top to bottom and back up again. “How does it feel?” she asks as she looks up at him expectantly.

Dean runs his fingers gently over the top, making himself shiver. “Awesome!” Dean says with a big smile.

“My turn!” Charlie says as she grabs a pair of panties in her size from the pile.

She pulls them up and does a little spin so Dean can see how they look. They're sheer white with half-inch, white elastic bands at the legs and waist, the sheer fabric ruffled at the edges. They hug her body just right, and the little green bow below her belly button finishes the look. Dean moans loudly, nearly drooling.

“I take it that's a yes on keeping them,” Charlie says with a giggle, then picks up the matching bra. She gets the bra on and then strikes a pose for Dean. “Well?”

He can see her nipples through the fabric, and even though he'd just seen her nipples without anything obstructing them, now he really wants to lick them through the fabric, but he controls himself, motions for her to spin around for him, then nods as she does a spin.

“They accentuate the shape of your hips. Very nice,” he drawls.

She smiles at him. “And you can see my nipples,” she stage whispers at him.

Dean chokes out a laugh. “Yes. Yes, you can,” he says, his eyes roving over her breasts.

“Okay, get them off. We have a bunch more to try on!” Charlie says as she unhooks her bra and tosses it on the bed.

Charlie pulls on a pair of yellow-trimmed Batman underoos, then the matching tank top. The fabric is thin cotton, and Dean wants to mouth over the Batman symbol that's resting just above her pussy.

“Less drooling, more changing!” Charlie insists as she bounces on her toes, her tits bouncing along with her.

Dean gets lost watching her breasts bounce in his face, so Charlie grabs a pair of black lace tanga panties and tosses them at Dean.

“Your dick is never going to calm down if you keep getting all excited,” Charlie teases with a smile.

Dean chuckles. Charlie doesn't seem to give a damn that his dick is standing at attention, so he relaxes a little. He'd rather it either calm down or even just turn into a pretty little pussy, but if Charlie's okay with it, he can chill out about it.

He holds the panties in between the fingers of his left hand as he pulls off the boy shorts and tank he's wearing, then pulls the tanga panties on. Again they're a perfect fit other than his hard dick, and again Dean is a little confused as to what he should do with said dick.

“Here, let me get this for you,” Charlie says, and before Dean can protest, she grabs his dick again and positions it so the left hip band is holding it against his body, but the head is peeking out toward his left side and leg.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles, his cheeks flushed again. Okay, so maybe he wasn't as okay with his dick joining the party as he'd told himself.

Charlie stands up straight, looks him in the eye. “Dee, it's part of your body. I know you'd rather have a pussy, but until you decide different, it's part of you, and it's not bothering me, so chill out, okay?”

Dean gives Charlie a dorky grin. “Okay.”

“Good, now that looks hot! You're totally keeping those!” Charlie says as he spins for her.

Dean chuckles. “You would tell me if you didn't like something, right?” he asks, wondering if she's just trying to build him up about the whole thing.

She looks at him with a 'well duh' look on her face. “Of course!” she says. “But I'm pretty sure most of this stuff's going to look amazing on you, so suck it up and put this on,” she says as she hands him a silky white teddy with little pink polka dots.

Dean takes it from her, then can't help but shiver again. It's just so soft and silky. He wants to fully experience this one, so he slides it slowly over his head, lets it fall gently over his chest and stomach. Charlie had purposely picked out a teddy that was more flowing and silky versus fitting so his lack of breasts wouldn't be painfully obvious.

“Oh, Dee, it's so pretty!” Charlie coos as she fixes the straps on his shoulders.

It falls to just below his panties, and everywhere it touches he feels all tingly. Dean is just about to start feeling himself up when Charlie leans in and rubs her cheek against his chest. His breath stutters, but he tries to hold still. She wraps her arms around his waist and tickles his back with her fingers through the teddy.

“I bet if you were to bend over, your panties would look so gorgeous peeking out from under this,” Charlie says.

Dean swallows a moan and tries his best to stay still even though he can feel Charlie's breath ghosting across the fabric on his chest.

“Do it,” she says suddenly as she pulls away from him. She does a spinning motion with her index finger. “Turn around and bend over a little.”

Dean blushes again. At this rate, his cheeks are just going to give up and remain red for the rest of his life. He huffs at her.

“C'mon, I want to see your panties,” Charlie whines.

Dean lets out a nervous chuckle, but he turns around and bends over a little. His cheeks feel like they're on fire.

“Hell, yeah!” Charlie yells from behind him.

Dean flinches at her outburst, so nervous that he's on edge. Charlie doesn't seem to notice, or maybe she's just trying to make him realize all of this is okay and to stop being such a big baby about it. Dean yelps as Charlie smacks his right ass cheek.

“Gorgeous! You're keeping these too,” she declares.

Dean quickly stands back up and turns around. “Your turn,” he says, then picks his way through one of the bags he'd carried in.

He picks out a green lace thong for her, knowing the outfit will look beautiful with her hair and skin tone. As Charlie puts the panties on, Dean grabs the top. It's the same green as the panties, but is sheer fabric instead of lace. It fits like a bikini top, the sheer fabric falling from the bottom of the bra to just above the top of the panties. The spaghetti straps and stitching are a slightly darker green and accent the rest of the fabric.

She puts the top on and she wriggles around a little, getting a feel for it. “This one isn't as comfortable as the other ones. I might take this one back,” Charlie complains.

“No!” Dean blurts. “It's fucking amazing. Even if you don't wear it all the time, you've got to keep it to impress a date.” He doesn't say he'd like if she kept it for him even if that's what he means.

“Really?” Charlie says as she looks down at herself.

“Really. The green is perfect on you, and the whole thing is...,” he trails off, mostly because he's trying to think of how best to describe just how hot it is. “It's very feminine and flattering,” he finishes, surprised when he's able to speak coherently.

Charlie giggles. “Okay, well, since you say I have to keep them, then I guess I have to keep them,” she says with a big smile.

“I do insist,” Dean says, nodding exaggeratedly.

Charlie's stomach growls and the two of them laugh. “I'm hungry, if you hadn't noticed,” she says without any embarrassment. “All this trying on clothes has got me starving! How about you throw all this stuff back in the bags, get comfortable on the bed with my laptop, and find a movie to watch while I grab something for us to eat.”

“Okay, dinner and a movie sounds good,” Dean says, then freezes as he wonders if he stepped over the line.

Dean watches as Charlie takes off her top, tosses it on the bed, then puts her shirt back on without a bra. She wriggles into her jeans, then waves to him as she leaves.

He's relieved she didn't freak over his dinner and a movie comment. But now Dean doesn't know what to do with himself. Charlie's been great about this whole thing so far, and he doesn't want to fuck it all up. Does he change what he's wearing? Does he pick out his favorite pieces from what they just bought and wear them?

He really wants to wear the boy shorts and the matching top. They were so soft and comfortable. He makes a decision and shoves the panties and tops from the bed back into the bags, leaving the ones he really wants to wear out, slipping into them after he takes off the teddy and lacy panties.

Dean settles onto the bed with Charlie's laptop, feeling only slightly awkward, but it's enough awkwardness that his dick is finally softening, which he's completely relieved about.

Charlie had told him her password, so he gets into the OS, opens her browser, finds her bookmarks for movie and TV, and picks out an action flick. Then he wonders if Charlie is into shit like that. He ends up second guessing himself over and over with the movie genres until Charlie walks in.

“I knew you liked that set!” she says as she smiles at him, pointing at the panties.

He looks down at his chest, then back up at Charlie with a grin. “Yeah, they feel really good, and they're also the best at holding in the junk,” he says with a chuckle.

Charlie laughs as she hops onto the bed, then spreads out the food. Dean is surprised by what she's picked. He so used to girls not eating much around him or picking things that look like healthy choices.

She brought ham, cheese, and bread to make sandwiches, a bag of chips, a six-pack of soda, and a bag of bite-sized candy bars.

Dean likes it when a girl doesn't try too hard. He's never had one eat like this in front of him, but he's already excited about not only how good everything looks to him, but also he really likes that Charlie must feel comfortable enough around him to eat like this.

It may put him in the Friends Zone, but he reminds himself that he'll take what he can get, and if this is all he gets of Charlie, he'll take it.

“I want a horror movie,” Charlie drawls as she looks at her laptop, waving her hand at the page he's on like she wants it to go away.

Dean had been in the romantic comedy section, having second guessed himself right out of action, horror, comedies, and independent movie categories.

She looks at him. “Or at the very least something with lots of explosions and guns and violence,” Charlie says with a grin, then waggles her eyebrows at him.

Dean settles back against the head of the bed. He could definitely get used to this.

\- - -

If Sam had noticed Dean and Charlie were spending a lot of time together, he hadn't said anything. Dean was kind of freaking out over what to say to Sam if Sam asked or mentioned anything about their relationship or whatever.

Charlie had said he didn't have to tell Sam anything if he didn't want to, but the way it always worked out with them, Sam would be figuring out something was up soon. Keeping secrets never worked out well between them, and the only thing he'd ever successfully kept from Sam had been his gender issues.

He knew he had to say something, and the fact that Sam was still sticking around after everything they'd both done over the years, well, it eased Dean's nerves just a bit. He still felt like his throat was going to spontaneously close off and suffocate him, but he supposed that's better than feeling like he's going to flop over dead of a heart attack.

Sam had been too tired the other night to notice Dean's fingernails had been painted green, and Dean had hid his fingers discretely in his jeans pockets. Charlie had shown off her own painted nails to Sam, but she hadn't said it was Dean who'd painted them for her, and she didn't say anything about Dean's own nails, for which he thanked her later. She gave him her 'duh' face and smacked his arm, then asked if he wanted to go for a walk because she was bored.

Dean was wearing his new wardrobe of panties all the time now. They felt great under his clothes, and he felt a little more like he was becoming what he'd always been meant to be. His dick wasn't even bothering him so much anymore with all of Charlie's encouraging words about being accepting of his body and that it didn't have to define him.

Charlie was a huge help. She was accepting of his feelings on the matter, not pushing when he needed her to back off and being very supportive whenever he wanted to try something new. She gave him advice on things, let him know what she had done and would do in situations, and she listened every time he had questions or concerns or when he just wanted to ramble on for a while.

Dean hadn't meant to, but he'd fallen for Charlie completely. It made him sick to his stomach to think about it, because he knew he was just setting himself up for a world of hurt, but he couldn't help it. She was amazing. Sure, she wasn't flawless, but he could more than handle those flaws, and she sure as hell could handle his.

He hadn't said anything to her about how he felt. He didn't want to ruin what they had. He didn't want to make her feel awkward around him. So he sucked it up. He could do this. She was a great friend, and he'd take what he could get.

\- - -

“Sam,” Dean says as they're sitting at the table. Dean thinks he might die. His pulse is racing, his throat is dry, and his palms are sweaty.

He really wants to do this, but he's scared of what could happen. He doesn't want to lose Sam, of course, and he really doesn't think he will over this. What he does see happening in his mind's eye, though, is Sam having a hard time accepting this and the whole thing affecting their relationship.

“Yeah?” Sam replies, not looking up from the book he has spread out on the table.

Dean turns to Charlie, and she gives him a reassuring smile and a nod. They'd talked about it, and she'd offered to be there for him while he and Sam had The Talk if Dean wanted. He did want her to be there.

“Sammy?” Dean says, then waits.

Sam's not ignoring him really, just half listening like they do when they're saying something not horribly important. Pausing like this will let Sam know there's something serious to talk about and he needs Sam's full attention.

Sam looks up from his book, noticing both Dean and Charlie are there. “What's up, guys?” he asks as he pushes the book away from him.

“I want to tell you something,” Dean says, his voice cracking on the last word. He clears his throat, wonders if that heart attack will strike at any moment now.

“Are you okay?” Sam asks, concerned look on his face, straightening up in his seat a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm okay,” Dean tells him with a nervous smile. “I just want... I need to tell you something, and I'm, I don't know how you're going to react, so I just –,” Dean starts, but then trails off.

Sam's eyes widen, and he's starting to looked spooked. “You're scaring me, here, Dean. Just blurt it out, dude,” he says.

Dean winces, takes a deep breath. “Okay, so I-I've never felt like I've been in the right body,” Dean starts, then plows on ahead since he's already said this much. “I feel like I should've been born a girl, and Charlie is, well, Charlie has been helping me work this out, but I just wanted you to know because you're my brother and we've learned time and time again that secrets don't work out well for us.”

Dean keeps eye contact with his brother, but it's hard. His chest is burning, and he realizes he's holding his breath. He wants to say he was just kidding and run off to his room. Especially when he sees that Sam's getting mad. Scratch that. Sam's getting pissed off.

“You –,” Sam starts, but cuts himself off as he sighs and looks down at the table. When he looks back up at Dean, Sam's furious. “I can't believe you'd do that. You want to get in Charlie's pants so bad that you fake an 'I'm a chick stuck in a dude's body' because she's a lesbian? That's low, Dean. That's just amazingly low,” Sam says with disgust.

Dean's world takes a jump to the left and his stomach doesn't like it one bit. His mouth is hanging open, but nothing's coming out. It would have hurt less had his brother stabbed him in the back with an actual knife. A dull one.

Dean gets up and hurriedly goes to his room. He's got tunnel vision, and when he slams his door, he can't hear anything but the rushing in his own ears. He feels his eyes burning, but he's so upset he doesn't even think he can cry.

He doesn't want to break something. He doesn't want to fling himself onto his bed and smother his face in a pillow. He doesn't know what he wants, but he knows it isn't pacing back and forth with his hands clenched into fists, but it's what he's doing anyway.

He knows Charlie will come to see if he's okay eventually, but he doesn't even know if he wants to talk to her about this. He won't turn her down if she wants in, but he's in pain, and he wants to calm down. He wants to take the last few minutes of his life back. He should get a redo on this.

It seems like forever that all he hears is the rushing in his ears, but he finally hears Sam talking to him through the door. Dean hadn't locked the door, but he figures Sam is giving him at least the dignity that the closed door allows him.

“Dean, I'm so sorry,” Sam yells through the door. “That was amazingly stupid of me, and I'm really sorry. Please open the door.”

“No,” Dean yells. Sure, it's childish to want to hide, but that had hurt, damn it.

“Dean, I swear I thought you were being an asshole, and I really am sorry,” Sam says, sounding genuinely sorry. “It wasn't until I saw your face that I realized I was the one being an asshole. You really meant what you said, didn't you,” Sam says rather than asks.

Dean doesn't respond. His throat feels tight, and he just wants Sam to leave him alone. He was so stupid for thinking his brother would handle this well. Sam may have accepted a lot of things, but maybe he was more like John than even Dean had even thought he was.

Sam sounds as if he's got his face shoved into the space where the doorjamb and door meet. “I should know you better than that by now, and it was just a knee-jerk reaction,” Sam says through the door. “After I said what I said, as soon as I saw the look on your face, I knew you were trying to tell me the truth, and Dean, I am so sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. You were trying to tell me something you've felt since you were a kid, and I threw it in your face because I wasn't thinking straight.”

Dean feels a flare of anger. “I wouldn't do that to Charlie just to get into her pants, Sam,” he yells back at Sam.

Sam sighs. “I know you wouldn't. And if I would've taken a minute to think about it, I wouldn't have ever said that to you,” Sam says, sounding horribly apologetic and like he's already beating himself up over the whole thing.

“Did Charlie threaten to kill you?” Dean asks, almost hoping she did, but at the same time he wants Sam to have come to him on his own.

Sam chuckles. “She didn't have to. As soon as you got up and left I called myself a few choice names and went after you,” he says, sounding very sheepish.

“You deserved whatever names you called yourself, you know,” Dean says, feeling a little mean.

Sam snorts. “I know. I really do. And if you wanna open the door to call me a few more names, that's okay too.”

Dean runs his hand over his face, letting out a big sigh. “The door's open, bitch,” he says.

“Yeah,” Sam drawls, “but can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Dean replies, turning toward the door.

Sam opens the door and shuffles into the doorway. He looks as if he's just kicked a whole box of puppies. He's got his arms out to the side. “I'm sorry,” he says with a wince.

“So you've said,” Dean says, still feeling a bit mean, but he's warming up to Sam's apologies.

Sam looks at the floor, then back up at Dean. He says, “The only problem I have with this whole thing is that you felt you couldn't come to me about this before, and that's probably because you expected something like what just happened, but I mean it, Dean. This doesn't change how I feel about you. You're still my brother,” Sam says, then his nose scrunches up adorably as he thinks about what he just said. “Well, I guess that'd be 'you're still my sister,' if that's what you wanted.”

Dean can't stop the laughter that bubbles out of him. And it has the desired effect on Sam, which is to say Sam looks greatly relieved, and a smile works its way onto Sam's face.

Sam shakes his head, the smile falling. “I mean it,” Sam says, serious and sincere face firmly back in place. “I'm totally okay with this, and whatever you want to do about it is fine with me. I don't say it often enough, but I love you, and all I care about is that you're happy.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Okay, now you're just taking advantage of the situation to have a chick flick moment. Knock it off,” Dean says with about as much affection as he can shove into his words.

“Yeah, I did, didn't I.” Sam chuckles. “But seriously, Dean. Just let me know what you want. If you want to change your name, change your clothes, change your hair. If you want me to start referring to you as she and her, just tell me. I can't say I won't slip up and say the wrong thing, but I want to make whatever transition you want to make go smoothly.”

Dean flashes a genuine smile at his brother. He has an awesome brother. “Thanks, Sam.”

\- - -

“Dee, Charlie!” Sam yells through the door.

Dean jerks awake, jostling Charlie, who lifts her head off of his chest and starts rubbing her eyes. “Yeah?” Dean replies in a scratchy voice.

“I made us all breakfast. Come eat,” Sam says.

Dean groans. Yesterday had been a very long day. He and Sam had been teaching Charlie how to use weapons, specifically knives. She learned quickly and was excited about it all, but it still made for a long day, and they were so tired they'd fallen asleep about a quarter of the way through the first movie they started on Charlie's laptop.

“We're coming,” Dean grumbles.

Charlie whines and shoves her face into the space between Dean's chest and the bed, which makes Dean chuckle.

“C'mon, Charlie. Sam's getting really good at cooking, and he likes trying out new stuff. It'll be worth it,” Dean promises.

“Fine,” Charlie growls, then pulls herself out of her Dean cave.

By the time they get to the kitchen, they're both more awake and Dean's stomach is growling. It smells wonderful. Dean and Charlie sit down at the table and grin at each other after getting an eyeful of Sam in an apron, which never fails to amuse the both of them.

“I tried something new, so let me know what you think,” Sam says as he sets down three plates, then takes a seat at the table.

“Ugh, this isn't some sort of veggie shit, is it?” Dean grumbles as he tilts his head to the side, looking for hidden bean sprouts or something else that will jump out and attack him with its vegetable goodness.

Sam chuckles. “Nope. It does have avocados and tomatoes and corn, but those are real eggs. It's extra thin Indian flat bread with a little cheese, corn, black beans, straight up eggs, and the stuff on top is kinda like a sweet salsa,” Sam says as he points out each item. “There's avocado, onions, and tomato in there.”

“It looks wonderful, Sam,” Charlie says as she digs in.

Dean's unsure. There are eggs, and he supposes the cheese does attempt to make up for the lack of bacon, but the whole thing looks too pretty to be awesomely tasty. Dean watches Charlie take a bite and the moan that comes from her makes Dean rethink his initial assessment.

“Sam! This is so good!” Charlie says as she gets another forkful.

Sam turns to Dean and raises an eyebrow. “There. Charlie has taste tested it for anything poisonous. You're free to try it now,” Sam snarks.

“Hmm, we'll see,” Dean says, then takes a bite.

The flavor mix might have seemed a little odd to look at, but once they're in his mouth, Dean thinks it's one of his new favorite breakfasts. He moans almost as loud as Charlie had.

“That's it,” Dean says through his mouthful of food, “we're chaining you to the stove and never letting you leave the kitchen.”

Sam lets out a bark of laughter. “I'm glad you like it,” Sam says with a big smile.

The three of them don't talk for a while as they enjoy their breakfast, but soon Dean notices that Sam's throwing sidelong glances at him, so when he's all but licked his plate clean, he turns to Sam.

“Spit it out,” Dean says.

Sam's eyes widen, and he swallows his last bite. He seems to think about it for a moment, then sighs. “It's a personal question that I have absolutely no business asking, but...,” Sam says with a grimace.

“Go for it,” Dean says.

Sam's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Then he tries again, seems as if he's thinking carefully about how to say it. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to. And again, this is none of my business,” he says, but Dean's impatient hand motions make Sam smile. “Do you hate the fact that you have a dick? Would you want that to change or are you okay with your body? Did you want to have a sex change when you were a kid? Do you want to now? It's just you'd like to do some things more on the feminine side or, well, because Charlie's been calling you Dee and you get a smile on your face when I call you Dee, and I saw bags in your room from a lingerie store, and I didn't want to pry, but you and Charlie have been spending a lot of time together, and I just don't want to step on toes or offend you, but –.”

Dean starts waving his hands around to stop Sam before he dies of lack of oxygen to the brain from all the babbling. “Dude. Chill,” Dean says.

Sam chuckles, then relaxes. “Sorry.”

Dean turns so that he's facing Sam head on. “When I was a teenager, yes, I wanted to have a sex change operation, but then I researched it. It's still not a very commonplace surgery, but back then it was even less common, and I read about how you can lose sensation in parts or all of your sex organs, and that right there stopped any ideas I had about getting the surgery.”

“Oh, yeah, damn. I guess that would be a big consideration,” Sam says with a look of alarm on his face.

“Hell, yeah,” Dean says with a smile. “And drugs mess with your hormones, which fuck with your sex life, in case you were wondering. Oh, and to answer your question about my dick, I don't hate it in the sense that it's responsible for orgasms, and anything that gives me orgasms is very important in my book,” he says with a grin. “If I was able to, by some sort of miracle or spell or what-the-hell ever, just change over to a female body, complete and as natural as if I was born that way, then yes, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But as far as anything less than that, I'm not going to take the chance that it'll fuck with my sex life.”

“Gotcha,” Sam says as he nods, then looks down at the table as if taking in everything he's just heard.

“Dicks are annoying,” Dean blurts.

Sam laughs hard at that. “I suppose that's true, even though I really, really like mine.”

Dean winces. “They're not pretty, they're messy, they announce your arousal to the world,” Dean lists with a disgusted look on his face, then he grins and waggles his eyebrows, “and they don't taste nearly as good as pussy.”

Charlie giggles and nods enthusiastically. “I concur!”

Sam laughs again. “Your arguments are all valid and completely true.”

“Charlie's helping,” Dean says as he throws a glance at her. Charlie gives him a sweet smile. “Before her, my dick was a necessary annoyance. One that I wouldn't give up, of course, but I was embarrassed and I didn't even like the way I looked in clothes because of it and because of the lack of tits. She's helped me with accepting what I've got even if it's not what I'd like to have or what I think I should've had from the start.”

“Charlie's smart, “ Sam stage whispers. “You should listen to her.”

“I am smart,” Charlie says with a smile and a nod. “You should totally listen to me.”

Sam chuckles, then turns to Dean again. “Thanks for letting me ask awkward questions. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I kinda feel like any information I can get out of you will make it so there's less confusion and room for me saying or doing something monumentally stupid in the future.”

“Not a problem, Sammy. If you do ask something I don't feel like answering, I'll tell you,” Dean says.

“Okay, that seems fair,” Sam says with a relieved look on his face. “Then I have another question.”

“Okay,” Dean says.

“Are you attracted to women or men? It's not because I have a problem with it either way, but I've seen you go after a lot of chicks over the years, and you seem to really, really like chicks, but I also know that just because you feel you should have been born a female, that doesn't mean automatically you'd be a heterosexual female, and your comment before about dicks being ugly and messy gave me some idea of your feelings on the matter, so I... and I'll stop talking now, sorry,” Sam finishes with a blush to his cheeks.

Dean chuckles. His brother is adorable when he's trying to be supportive. “I like women. A lot. And dicks are not something I'm interested in. But it's more than just that. I've never been attracted to a male personality, never gotten along with one other than you, and Cas doesn't count because of the whole angel thing, so yes, I'd definitely say I was a lesbian,” Dean says.

“And no,” Sam says, “I'm not going to say you should just keep your dick if you like women anyway. I'm not a total asshole.”

Charlie laughs. “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Sam Winchester,” she says with a smile.

“Why, thank you, Charlie,” Sam says, beaming at her with dimples in full effect. “And Dean, I just want you to know that you can go as far as you want with all this, and I'm not going to give you a hard time besides some necessary little brother-like teasing. You do what makes you happy.”

Dean feels his eyes burn, his throat gets a little tight, and his breath catches in his chest. “Thanks, Sammy,” he manages to say without crying at his brother.

“Thank you for the wonderful breakfast, Sam,” Charlie says as she gets up and starts gathering the dishes. “Since you made breakfast, I'm doing the dishes, then you guys can teach me how to use an easily-concealed knife.”

“You got it,” Dean says as he gets up from the table. “I'll go pick out a few knives. Sam, can you get the floor mats set out?”

“Yup,” Sam says as he gets up, “and thanks for doing the dishes.”

“No problem,” Charlie says, already filling the sink with soapy water.

\- - -

“I'm sorry! Fuck!” Dean yells as he pulls away from Charlie. “I'm really sorry!” he says as he sits on the mat, panting and berating himself internally.

Charlie rolls into a sitting position and sighs. “Dee, it's okay. We're wrestling all over the ground, you're getting stimulated, adrenaline's pumping, and I really don't mind,” she says sincerely.

Sam stays quiet where he sits against the wall, cleaning the guns and discretely watching them.

“I fucking hate it,” Dean growls. “And why aren't you more upset about this? You hate dick, and here I am stabbing you with it every time we get close because you're so fucking hot and, oh fuck, I really do want to get in your pants.” Dean shoves his face into his hands.

Charlie huffs indelicately. “If you're going to be a woman, you really need to knock off this stupid shit of listening like a man,” Charlie says.

Dean startles, his hands coming away from his face so he can look at Charlie. He hears Sam snort, but Sam doesn't comment.

“Huh?” Dean asks stupidly.

“All that shit I said about trying to get you to accept the body you're in if physical transitioning isn't what you want to do right now, everything I said about how I care about what's on the inside, about how, hey, isn't it cool that you feel the same way as me about guys versus girls, and, holy shit, Dee, you didn't get it even when I was grabbing your dick to get it positioned in the panties we bought and were trying on together!” Charlie babbles with a shocked look on her face.

Dean hears Sam choke after Charlie's last line, but he's too shocked himself over what Charlie's saying to tease Sam about it. Dean knows it's the first Sam's heard that he and Charlie had tried on lingerie together.

“You didn't get any of this?” Charlie nearly squeals. “You're so stuck on me being a lesbian even though I've been flirting with you almost this whole time and practically screaming in your face that I wished people would look beyond physical bodies to see the real person that you didn't see I was attracted to you as a person, and that I don't give a shit about you having a dick beside the fact that you're upset about it?”

“Uhm, I –,” Dean splutters.

Charlie gets to her hands and knees, crawls over to Dean, then kisses him. Dean's head is swimming, not only because this is really fucking happening, but because he really had been so stuck on Charlie not being into him physically that he'd not even considered it a possibility.

He'd been so stupid. He'd even explained to Sam, with Charlie sitting right there, that Dean himself was attracted to girls, not boys his whole life because he just never connected with male brains and personalities.

Charlie continues to kiss him, probably knowing he's working this all out in his head, though she probably doesn't realize he's having a harder time working through it because Charlie's such a great kisser.

She shoves her tongue into his mouth and he moans. It's been so long since he's had any kind of sexual contact, and being so close to Charlie these past few weeks, trying on lingerie with her, lying in bed and watching movies with her, it's been kind of a slow torture.

Dean lets her control the kiss, and he shivers when she grabs his face with her hands. She's damn near eating him alive, and he loves it. She finally pulls back and looks him in the eye.

He lets out a nervous chuckle and feels his eyes well up with tears. He still feels stupid about this whole thing, but he also feels very grateful that something he's dreamed about, wished for, fantasized about for weeks now is not only a possibility, but it's actually happening.

He thinks about when he first met Charlie, how he felt an attraction even then, but how he'd been careful to keep a bit of distance after finding out she was a lesbian. But he'd still wanted her. And a part of him had wanted her even more knowing that she was a lesbian, because there was a small niggling hope in the back of his mind that she'd be open to his seemingly overwhelming mountain of issues, open to what she was now offering him.

Dean tries to blink away the tears, but instead a few fall down his cheeks. He smiles at Charlie as she wipes them away. Dean glances over to where Sam had been sitting, happy to see Sam has left. His brother is awesome.

“You were flirting with me?” Dean asks, scrunching up his nose.

Charlie snorts. “Well, I do tend to be dorky, and I've been accused of being cute whether I'm flirting or not, but yeah, I haven't been blurting out sexual innuendos around Sam, and I certainly haven't tried on lingerie with him,” Charlie says.

Dean chuckles. “See, that's what threw me. I thought the two of you went and got panties in Sasquatch's size and tried them on together. If I would've known it was just for me, I'd have clued in a little faster.”

“Are you done being oblivious now?” Charlie asks sweetly.

“God, I hope so,” Dean says, rolling his eyes.

“Yay!” Charlie squeals as she does a little body wiggle of joy, making Dean chuckle. “And I just want you to know that I'm okay with whatever.”

“Uhm, whatever what?” Dean asks with a raised eyebrow.

Charlie giggles. “Communication; I has it,” she says, then snorts at herself. “What I'm trying to say is that I want you to know as far as a relationship and-slash-or anything sexually you want to do with me, I'm totally up for it.”

Dean sees the excitement on her face, yet he's still not quite sure what all she's offering him. “Okay, now don't hit me or anything, because I really did listen to your little speech about seeing the person within, but, uhm, I do still have a dick,” Dean says, the bridge of his nose scrunched up.

“I'm not going to hit you,” she says, then adds with a leer, “unless you're into that.”

Dean really digs the leer, and his dick twitches at the thought of Charlie finding him leer-worthy. “I might be,” he flirts back.

“Okay, just so we're on the same page, here,” she says, “I really, really like pussy, but when it comes to anything beside a quickie with some hot chick I just met, it's all about brains, personality, sense of humor, and all that other good stuff.”

“Have you ever been with a guy?” Dean asks.

“Yes,” she says.

Dean is shocked. “Okay, I hadn't expected that, especially after your reaction to that guard. You couldn't even flirt with him,” he says, the sentence somehow turning into a question.

“You didn't see the guy,” Charlie says with a frown.

“I thought you just said you don't go by looks so much,” Dean says.

“That's true, but initially there has to be some judging of a book by its cover,” Charlie says, throwing her hands up. “He was definitely totally male. The maleness was just radiating from him like a giant neon sign, and it's an instant turn-off for me.”

“Oh, well, that does make sense, because I'm not really attracted sexually to overly butch lesbians,” Dean says reasonably.

“There you go!” Charlie says with a grin. “The guys that I've been with –,” Charlie starts.

“Guys, plural?” Dean interrupts with a raised eyebrow.

She smacks his arm. “Yes, plural,” she says, faking annoyance. “The guys plural that I've been with have had that same something about them that attracts me to them. One guy was bisexual, and while he really didn't have gender issues about himself, his entire personality and way of life, well, I just meshed well with him. We dated for a while, but it didn't work out, so we went our separate ways.”

“And when you say you were with him...,” Dean prompts.

“I don't have any video or pictures,” Charlie teases him with a really disappointed look and a sympathetic shrug.

“Dork,” Dean says as he chuckles.

“Another guy that I went out with for a while couldn't decide if he wanted to be called he or she,” Charlie says, and Dean notices that Charlie doesn't seem like that idea was odd or an inconvenience, rather she says it like she's telling Dean the weather. “Remmy was just Remmy. He had gotten breast implants a few years before we started dating, which I had fun with,” Charlie says with a lascivious grin, “but he was completely on board with keeping his dick and balls. He dressed in women's clothes sometimes and men's clothes other times. He liked to say he dressed to fit his mood.”

“That's actually refreshingly awesome sounding. Cool that he was that comfortable with himself and you let him do what he felt like doing,” Dean says, feeling chills run down his spine. A big part of him is jealous of Remmy, but another part wonders just how much he would have been like Remmy even if he had thought it would have been acceptable.

“It would've been really selfish of me to try and keep him from doing what he felt like doing,” Charlie says. “The thought never occurred to me. Remmy was one of the happiest people I've ever met, and I hope he never lets anybody make him feel like he can't be who he wants to be.”

Dean's eyes burn again, but he blinks away the emotion. What's done is done, and even though he let others dictate how he should live before, Charlie and Sam being so great about all this was opening up so many new options to Dean, and he was very grateful.

“I've been with a few more guys than that, but I just thought you might like to hear how much I don't have a problem with you or what you want out of life,” Charlie says with a little smile that makes her eyes look so very warm and welcoming, drawing Dean in.

Dean winces. “After seeing how well you've taken this, and after seeing how well Sam's doing with it after that first knee jerk reaction and misunderstanding, I think I'm probably going to be the one that has more difficulty with this.”

Charlie grabs both sides of Dean's neck with her hands, pulls him in for a quick but firm kiss, then pulls back to look him in the eye. “Sam and I have talked about it,” Charlie says.

Just as Dean tenses, he sees the look in Charlie's eyes, one that tells him she knows he's upset they talked about him when he wasn't there, but to just hear her out, calm down, so he does, nodding at her, and she gives him a little smile when she feels him relax.

“Sam loves you so much,” Charlie starts.

Dean feels his breath catch in his chest. Not that he didn't know his brother loves him, but the conviction Charlie has when she says it takes Dean's breath away, like Sam's love for him was so significant and noteworthy that Charlie was moved.

“He wants you to be happy. That's all he's ever wanted when he hasn't had his head up his own ass, which admittedly has been fairly often,” Charlie says with a chuckle.

Dean snorts. Yeah, that sounds like something Sam would say, and it's completely true. Dean has always loved Sam, even when he knew Sam had his head up his ass, and even when it hurt to love Sam.

“He's a little hurt that you didn't say something to him over the years, especially given how close you guys are,” Charlie says.

When Dean opens his mouth to speak, Charlie puts a finger over his lips. He huffs, but he doesn't speak, so she takes her finger away.

“He knows it's a big thing,” Charlie says, “and he knows that your dad probably wasn't the type to handle it well. But I think you should talk it out with Sam because he's got it in his head that he gave off anti-tolerance vibes over the years or said things that made you think you couldn't tell him about something so significant in your life. I told him I wasn't sure because I didn't grow up with you guys. Take time if you need it to think about it, but I really think you should talk with him about it.”

Dean nods. “I will. And thanks for talking to him.”

Charlie smiles. “You should totally thank me, and you should definitely show me your appreciation in fun and interesting ways,” Charlie says with an eyebrow waggle.

Dean chuckles. “I can so do that,” he says as he laces his fingers through Charlie's, holding her hand.

“I'm sure Sam will tell you in more detail, but he's more open to things like this than I think you knew,” Charlie says.

“I know Sam well enough that I have no problem believing you,” Dean says, “but I was purposely blind about it because I was too scared he'd not be okay with it.”

“He understands that you'd be scared. Just talk to him,” Charlie says again.

“Yes, ma'am,” Dean says.

“Mmm, “ma'am.” I think I like that,” Charlie says with a shiver.

Dean feels his dick twitch again at Charlie's reaction. Now that he knows Charlie's okay with all of this and is on board, Dean doesn't have to hide how he feels about her. It feels great to be able to flush with arousal and not worry she's going to be offended or upset.

“And as far as me,” she says with a grin as she grabs him by the front of his shirt, pulling him closer to her, their noses inches apart. “I want to do lots of fun stuff with you.”

“Mmm,” Dean moans as his eyes fall closed.

“I get the feeling you like a sexually aggressive woman, even though from what I gather, your previous long-ish-term girlfriends weren't all that aggressive,” Charlie says, then licks his lips.

Dean gasps at the tease of her tongue. “You heard that from Sam, right? The thing about the girls I liked being submissive and pushovers?” then leans in to kiss Charlie.

Charlie pulls back suddenly, leaving Dean questing after her lips. “Sam's wrong?” she asks with a grin.

Dean whines at the missed opportunity to kiss Charlie, then leans in anyway and kisses the side of her mouth. “Sam saw both Cassie and Lisa in situations where they were scared for their lives and their families. Neither of them backed down or ran away from those situations, but Sam saw them at their least confident.”

Charlie grins. “I see,” she drawls. “That works perfectly with all my evil plans for what I intend to do to you,” Charlie says, then lets out an evil overlord laugh that both impresses Dean and makes him laugh along with her.

Dean ducks his head, then looks up at Charlie. “I can get aggressive, and I like making my partner very happy in bed, but yeah, I like a woman who knows what she wants and takes it.”

Charlie dives down and kisses Dean with a fierceness that makes him groan into the kiss. She wraps one hand around the back of his neck, the other around his back as she climbs into his lap and opens his mouth with her tongue.

Dean's hands flutter at Charlie's sides for a moment before he wraps his arms around her. She starts grinding down on his crotch, her breasts rubbing against his chest as it feels like she's trying to get herself off on the friction through their clothes alone.

Charlie moves her right leg to be in between Dean's legs so that she's riding Dean's left upper thigh, then starts grinding down on him, getting herself in a position that must feel great by the way she sticks to that spot and works down hard on him. Dean's getting friction on his dick from how enthusiastically Charlie is grinding on him.

“This all right with you?” Charlie asks, voice breathless and scratchy in a way that makes Dean's whole body tighten in a delicious way.

“Yeah, fuck, yes,” Dean mumbles as he lets his head fall to Charlie's shoulder, licks her neck, then moans as he feels her shudder against him.

“I've been waiting so impatiently for you to catch a clue, Dee,” Charlie gasps, then scratches her nails over Dean's scalp.

The use of this new name Charlie has given him excites him. He could have it. It could be his name. Charlie uses it. Sam uses it, only having slipped a couple of times and called him Dean, then corrected himself without fanfare.

Dean wants it. He wants to be Dee. He wants to have awesome tits. He wants to have a pretty little pussy, but he wants to be what Charlie wants, wants this idea of being what he's hoped for so long, even if it's not complete, not physical.

He'll still be stuck with a dick, but he knows life isn't fair. He learned that long ago. But he can have this. He's happy for this. He's thrilled Charlie was the one to give this to him, that Sam was willing to give this to him.

And she's right here, right in his arms, grinding against him so sweetly it's taking his breath away. She's so lost in arousal that her eyes are falling closed seemingly against her will, because every time it appears she remembers, she opens her beautiful green eyes to watch Dean again. To watch Dee again.

Dean holds Charlie tighter, yanks her against him, and Charlie lets out a squeak. Dean's so hard it hurts, and he's so close to coming he's almost embarrassed.

“You gonna come in your pants for me, Dee?” Charlie whispers in his ear.

Charlie's voice is so sultry, so unbelievably wasted on arousal that Dean whimpers, shoves his face into the space between her neck and shoulder and comes so hard he grits his teeth and growls, “Charlie, fuck, Charlie!”

“Oh, my god, y-you, fuck, you really came in your pants,” Charlie nearly whines, straining against Dean, sounding so desperate, so fucking turned on and damn near mindless. “Dee!” Charlie yelps as she comes, jerking hard against Dean.

Dean holds her firmly, but not so tight as to stop her from moving however she wants to move. Just hard enough that every jerk and wave her body makes goes straight through him. As the waves wash through her, the grinding gets slower, but she's still moving, still using his body as she pants into his hair, nails gripping his shoulders, and Dean hopes they leave marks on his skin.

Charlie finally slows to a stop and drops her weight on Dean, totally spent and enjoying the afterglow. Dean happily holds her up, then realizes there's a mat beneath them, and he doesn't have to do all the work.

Charlie squeaks as Dean lets himself fall backward. She doesn't seem surprised, but more as if it's a squeak of “yes, that was a good idea,” and then she wriggles a little until she's comfortable sprawled all over Dean.

Charlie turns her head so that Dean can feel Charlie's breath ghosting over his right ear and neck. “I made you come in your jeans, Dee,” Charlie says in one of the sexiest afterglow voices Dean's ever heard, like she's completely pleased with herself for having had that effect on Dean.

“Yes, you did,” Dean says with a lazy chuckle.

“'Cuz I'm just that hot, huh?” she asks as she lets her fingers trail over his left nipple and chest.

Dean chuckles again at Charlie's adorableness. “Yes, you're just that hot. And you seemed to find me coming in my pants a turn on, so I'll try not to be embarrassed.”

“Hell, no, don't be embarrassed,” Charlie groans as she tweaks his nipple as if in punishment for ever having considered being embarrassed. “Are you embarrassed when a girl comes just from getting fingered before your tongue or anything else ever even touches her?”

“Mmm, no,” Dean admits, his eyes falling closed.

“So imagine how sexy I feel having made you get those pretty panties all dirty with your spunk,” she whispers in his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean groans at the dirty talk. He hadn't forgotten he was wearing a pair of pink polka dot panties with a little pink bow at the front. It seems Charlie hadn't forgotten either.

“I plan on sharing many, many more orgasms with you,” Charlie mumbles as she snuggles into Dean as if she's going to fall asleep right here on the mat. “That all right with you?”

“I have no problem with that plan,” Dean says, caring less and less that he's lying on a mat and not in bed.


	4. Part 3

Part 3

“Dinner!” Sam yells.

Charlie snorts in Dean's ear as she jerks awake. Dean feels the warmth of Charlie all along his body, doesn't want to make her get up. He's sure his panties will stick to him, but right now all he feels is warmth and comfort and the welcome pressure of a lover pushing him into the mat.

“I don't know whether he has awesome timing because I'm hungry or the worst timing in the world because I was really, really comfy,” Charlie complains as she shifts herself to Dean's right, letting herself slide down off him and onto the mat.

“Ditto,” Dean says as he works himself into a sitting position. “But it smells too good to ignore.”

“Mmm, yeah, it does,” Charlie says, pushing herself to her hands and knees. “Do you think Sam would mind us coming to dinner smelling like sex and you with your panties all nasty?”

Dean feels his dick twitch and comes to the realization that his dick has decided Charlie is sexy no matter what she does, and Dean's going to have to walk around with a semi all the time. He wonders if he should get some control panties or start looking into tucking.

“Sam won't care. In fact he'll probably need to be the last one to leave the table because of his little problem,” Dean says with a grin.

“Hah!” Charlie barks, then pulls herself up to stand. She offers Dean her hand and yanks him up with surprising strength.

Dean grabs Charlie and pulls her close for a kiss, then looks her in the eye. “But make sure and tease him a little, because he's probably gonna be trying for the whole gentleman thing so he doesn't upset or embarrass you, but if you're up for it, which I think you are if I know you at all, then see if you can get him to choke on his food or at least blush some, would ya?”

“You're evil,” Charlie says, her eyes widening, a smile growing. “I like it.”

They walk into the kitchen hand in hand, then sit down next to each other. “Smells good, Sam,” Charlie comments as she rubs her hands together.

“Why, thank you, Charlie,” Sam says as he puts a plate in front of her.

“Our own little Suzy Homemaker!” Dean teases, then he eyes up the plate set in front of him and feels his mouth water. “Are you teaching yourself all this stuff you've been making lately or are you sneaking out for chef school in the middle of the night?”

Sam chuckles as he sits down with his own plate. “No chef school. I've been watching some cooking videos online and just trying out new things, playing around with stuff.”

“Oh, Sam, this is so good!” Charlie moans with a mouthful of food.

“Watch it, Dee,” Sam says as he points his fork toward Dean. “Sounds like my cooking is making her moan louder than you do.”

Dean chokes so badly on his food that Charlie starts patting him on his back. Of course she's also laughing so hard she can barely smack his back.

“Don't worry, Sam,” Charlie says as her giggles die down. “I'm sure once we make it to the point where clothes are actually removed and I can take Dee's mouth for a ride, I'll moan much louder.”

Dean hears Sam doing a flat out belly laugh. Dean grabs his glass of water and downs it. “You were accusing me of being evil when it was you all along,” Dean croaks as he nudges Charlie in the ribs.

Dean chuckles, then looks over at Sam and starts laughing. Sam had laughed hard enough that there were tear tracks on his cheeks and he was holding his stomach.

“I'd accuse the two of you of planning that just to kill me by way of food inhalation, but I think I would have noticed if you two were discussing these evil plans over my head while Charlie and I were passed out,” Dean says as he digs into his food once more.

“So, Chef Sam,” Charlie says, still giggling. “What is it that you've made for us this evening?”

Sam wipes the tears from his face with his forearm. “That is chicken Kiev,” Sam says as he points to the Kiev on his own plate. “It's filleted chicken breast stuffed with herb garlic butter, then I breaded the chicken and pan fried it. Then we have asparagus with Hollandaise sauce and roasted red potatoes with some light seasoning and parsley flakes.”

“Mmm,” Dean moaned as he took a bite of the chicken Kiev. “You do realize you've just relegated yourself to kitchen duty, right?”

Sam smiles. “As long as you handle KP, I'm fine with it.”

“I can do that,” Dean says with a nod, then shoves a potato slice into his mouth, which deserves more moaning.

“I made dessert too, so save some room,” Sam says with a nod toward the counter.

“Ooh, what did you make?” Charlie says as she stabs a spear of her asparagus.

“There's this cake-y stuff that's kind of like brownies,” Sam says. “I'm going to put some vanilla ice cream with it, then a little whipped cream on top.”

“Okay, I changed my mind,” Dean says. “We're chaining you to the kitchen. Like putting a cuff around your ankle and chaining it to the stove.”

Sam chuckles. “I'm really enjoying the cooking, and it's cool that you guys really seem to like everything I make.”

“What made you start looking up recipes and trying things out?” Charlie asks.

Sam blushes a little. “I was reading a news article, and there was a blurb in there about a chef that made some really delicious steak sandwich thing. For some reason I checked out the chef's blog, read some of his entries, and the way he was talking about the cooking process and all, well, it seemed like it wouldn't be all that hard, and he seemed to have fun, so I wanted to try it out.”

“Cool!” Charlie says with a big smile.

“His blog included links to other chefs, then from there I found recipe sites, and I just bookmarked some things that looked interesting, and I've been working my way through the bookmarks, cooking a few things at a time,” Sam says.

“You had to have gone out shopping for some of this stuff,” Dean says, then points to the potatoes. “I don't remember picking these up the last time we went to the supermarket.”

“The day after I found the chef's blog I did a shopping trip,” Sam says, nodding. “After I'd made a couple of the meals, I needed a few more things, so I took another shopping trip, that time getting everything I thought I'd need for a week's worth of the recipes in my bookmarks.”

Dean takes a bite of the asparagus, thinking he wouldn't like it, but he's surprised when the Hollandaise sauce makes it seem like he isn't even eating a vegetable at all.

“You wouldn't happen to have plans for a bunch of future meals, would you, Sammy?” Dean asks.

Sam smiles. “Yeah, I've got plans for a few weeks out actually.”

“Awesome!” Dean says.

“Ready for dessert?” Sam asks as he stands up, his own plate in hand.

“Yeah!” Dean says, handing his empty plate to Sam.

As Sam takes the plate from him, the fork slides off the plate, and it surprises Dean that he never hears it hit the floor. Dean looks up at Sam and sees a funny look on his brother's face. Dean knows something's up. Sam never has that constipated look on his face for nothing.

“Care to share, Sam?” Dean asks, and Charlie looks between the both of them, clearly puzzled.

“Don't freak out, okay?” Sam asks.

“Asking me to not freak out makes me freak out,” Dean says, his voice raising a bit.

“I swear it's nothing bad, and I just have to figure a way to get it to go away,” Sam says.

“Spit it out, Sam!” Dean barks.

Sam's shoulders slump in defeat, then Dean sees the fork come around from behind Sam's back. And then Dean sees that there's something holding the fork.

“What the fuck is that?” Dean asks as he sits up straighter in his seat.

“That is so cool!” Charlie enthuses as she points at what can only be described as a tail holding the fork out for Dean.

“A tail,” Dean deadpans. “You have a tail.”

“Uhm, yeah, I have a tail,” Sam says.

“And this is not something to freak out about?” Dean asks.

“Can I touch it?” Charlie asks, her eyes wide and excitement in her voice.

The tail reaches over to Charlie, the fork held out to her. She squeals as she takes the fork from Sam's tail, then she runs her finger over the end of it. Sam gasps, and Charlie jumps, pulling her hand back.

“Did I hurt you?” Charlie asks with concern.

Sam blushes so hard that Dean chuckles. He knows that look on his brother's face. “That's not pain I see on his face.”

“Nobody but me has touched it yet,” Sam says with a wince. “I was just surprised by how it felt. That's all.”

“Yeah, so it didn't feel good at all, huh?” Dean asks with a grin.

“Shut up, Dee,” Sam grumbles.

“How did you get this?” Charlie asks, reaching out and touching it again with her finger.

Sam shivers, but doesn't pull his tail away. “I, ah, was in the library. I was r-reading when a, fuck!” Sam yelps as Charlie grabs the end of his tail.

“Sorry,” Charlie says, not sounding apologetic at all as she rolls the tail between her fingers. “I just wanted to see if I felt like a rat's tail or more like a cat's tail. It feels more like a rat's tail, if you wondered, Dee.”

Dean snorts as Sam adjust his jeans. “Thanks for the info, Charlie,” Dean says, not taking his eyes off Sam's face. This is fun.

Charlie finally lets go of Sam's tail, but Sam's breathing a little hard. “Reading. I was reading. And something fell out of the book,” Sam says, turning around and taking the dishes to the counter.

Charlie leans over, whispers in Dean's ear, “I totally did it on purpose.”

Dean snorts again, but he tries to cover his mouth, hoping Sam doesn't hear him. Sam starts getting the dessert onto plates.

“The thing that fell out of the book kind of seemed like a bookmark,” Sam says. “It wasn't anything special looking. It was flat silver with a hook on the end that went over the top of the pages, but when I picked it up off the floor, I felt this odd sensation at the bottom of my spine. It didn't hurt exactly, but the tail just kind of sprouted out of me, and as soon as it was full length, it was like it had always been there, and I could control it like it was a limb I've always had.”

“That's new,” Dean comments.

“I've tried doing some research on it, but the piece of metal doesn't seem to have any markings on it, and the shape of it isn't all that interesting,” Sam says, scooping the ice cream out onto the cake. “The book it was in wasn't even anything like a spell book or dark magic or anything.”

“It hasn't done anything odd other than the obvious?” Dean asks.

“Not so far. And it really does feel like I've always had it,” Sam says, getting three spoons out of the drawer. “That's why I didn't even think about it before I caught the fork with it.”

“So is this fucking with your head?” Dean asks, suddenly concerned of darker forces at work.

Sam shakes his head. “I don't think so. I'll admit that it feels oddly right to have the tail, and I'd like you guys to watch me in case I act strange, but I'm not getting any bad vibes or feeling strange or doing anything odd that I know of.”

Dean nods. “Okay, well make sure and say something if that changes, got me?”

“Yup,” Sam says, nodding.

“Does this mean,” Charlie interrupts in an extremely serious voice, “that we have to cancel dessert?”

Dean snorts. “No. Only an apocalypse will stop dessert, and only then if I'm mortally wounded.”

“Yay!” Charlie says as she claps.

Sam chuckles, then grabs the plates, sets them down on the table. “Enjoy.”

“Mmm,” Charlie moans after taking a bite. “You know, Sam, I haven't noticed you acting weird, but do you think maybe the whole chef thing came at the same time as the tail and you've got some kind of Ratatouille curse going on?”

Sam's jaw drops. Dean tries not to react because it looks like Sam is actually worried not only over the implications of what Charlie just said, but he seems to be trying to figure out whether she's serious or not. Dean's impressed by Charlie's innocently serious pretense.

“Uhm, well, I suppose it could be a –,” Sam starts, but is interrupted when Charlie lets out an obnoxiously loud bark of laughter.

Dean can't help it. His shoulders start shaking as he tries to hold in the laughter. Sam's blushing again and has this adorably goofy grin on his face. “I can't believe she got you so bad, Sammy,” Dean says, shaking his head and cutting another piece of cake with his spoon.

“How am I supposed to know she's not serious?” Sam asks, his eyebrows rising. “I thought she was about to start calling me Remy!”

Dean guffaws, then it hits him. “Wait, you actually watched a kids' movie and know the name of the lead character?” Dean asks in his most condescending big-brother voice.

Sam smirks. “And you know this how, Dee?” Sam asks as he bats his eyelashes.

Dean splutters for a moment before shrugging and shoving another spoonful of dessert into his mouth. “The dinner and dessert were good enough tonight that I'll let you have that one,” Dean garbles through a mouthful of food.

Sam gets that oh-so-annoying little-brother-won look on his face. Dean glances at Charlie to see her looking back and forth between them with an indulgent smile on her face.

\- - -

Dean and Charlie make good on their promise to handle KP duty. Well, Dean makes good on it and Charlie insists on helping Dean.

Sam announced very loudly that he was on his way to the library, conveniently far enough away from the bedrooms that Sam wouldn't hear any noises coming out of one of the bedrooms with the door closed.

As Charlie dried the last fork and put it away, she suddenly declared, “I'm horny.”

Dean chuckled. “You are? Well, something has to be done about that.”

Charlie turned to him with a mischievous grin on her face. “I'll race you to bed!” she yells, then turns and takes off running.

“Hey!” Dean protests, but tosses the towel onto the counter and takes off after her.

Charlie giggles as she runs, and the sound already has Dean getting hard in his pants. They get to the doorway at the same time, but Charlie hip checks him, then shoves her way into the room.

“Cheater!” Dean accuses as he walks in, then closes the door behind him.

“Don't be a sore loser, baby,” Charlie says as she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it.

Dean takes the hint and pulls his own shirt off. He starts undoing the button on his jeans when Charlie spins to look at him.

“Whoever gets naked first gets to top,” she says with excited look on her face.

Dean chuckles as he pulls the rest of his clothes off, nearly tearing the panties, but he's too late. By the time he throws the panties in the corner, Charlie's jumping onto the bed, bouncing on her knees as she comes down.

“I win,” Charlie drawls.

“You get to top. We both win,” Dean says with a cocky grin.

“We'll see about that. I didn't promise to let you come if I topped,” Charlie says as she puts her hands on her hips.

“Mmm,” Dean moans, his eyes closing for a moment while he lets the idea of that sink in.

“You like that, Dee?” Charlie asks, a subtle tone of command coming through.

“Yes, ma'am,” Dean says as he looks at her.

“Well, then get your cute little ass over to my backpack and bring me what's in it,” she says, pointing to the backpack on his dresser.

Dean walks over and unzips the backpack, and his dick twitches so hard he grunts when he sees what's in there. He pulls out the strap-on as if it's something delicate that he has to be careful with. There are black straps with a fitting for an attachment on the front and a long piece with two arms going off toward the inside of the straps for the wearer. Dean nearly drools when he sees that the thing is going to be going inside Charlie, it's going to be fucking her pussy and stimulating her clit at the same time.

There are two dildos in the bag, so he pulls them out too. There's a medium-sized and are very interestingly designed.

“You like?” Charlie asks sweetly.

“Ah, I think I do,” Dean says uncertainly. “I mean I get that it's gonna be fun, but I've never seen a dildo quite like these before,” he says as he turns around and walks to the bed.

“These are actually really geeky,” Charlie says as she takes the strap-on and dildos from Dean. “I modified the strap-on so I could use some toys I picked up from a really interesting store. This one,” Charlie says pointing to the dildo that will hopefully be going inside him, “is based on tentacle porn.”

Dean doesn't laugh. He can't. It looks like way too much fun to use. Something this fun shouldn't be mocked. It's an odd mix of orange, yellow, and green colors blending together throughout the length of the thing. It starts at the base with a flared area that might be balls, but shaped more like the tentacle had been cut off from a much larger part of the beast.

The dildo has a bit of a curve to it, and there are three vertical rows of small nubs that make Dean shiver as he imagines what they're going to do to his prostate. The thing really does look like a tentacle. Or at least a tentacle from a particularly raunchy hentei movie.

“This right here,” Charlie says as she points to the dildo that'll soon be going inside here, “is made to be kind of like what you'd think the aliens from Predator would have for a dick.”

The dildo is a mix of deep purples and greens. This one reminds Dean of an armadillo's shell. It has ridges that are about an inch and a half wide from the base to just under the head, which then flares out into something that's too curvy and pointed to be anything humanoid.

“You can pick which one you want to try. We can always use the other one later, but you get first choice this time,” Charlie says. She points to the alien dildo. “This one's my favorite, but they both feel great,” she says as she grins at him.

Dean looks at both of them. “I, ah, haven't been pegged in a long time, so I think I'll go with the tentacle just because it's a bit smaller,” Dean admits, reaching out and running his fingers over the tentacle.

“Okay,” Charlie says as she sets the strap-on and dildos behind her. “Get on the bed. I want you on your back,” she says, waving her hand in the direction she wants him to go.

Dean crawls onto the bed and flops down on his back, spreading his legs and his arms out and resting his head back on the pillow. “Do I get to do anything to you or is this shut up and enjoy the ride kind of thing?”

Charlie grins, a devious look on her face, as she gets on all fours and crawls to Dean, coming to a stop at the V of his legs and sitting on her heels. “If you're asking because you're wanting to pleasure me and make sure I get off, then don't worry. I definitely will be getting off and enjoying every bit of you.”

Dean's dick twitches. “Uhm, okay,” he says, then shivers as Charlie runs her fingers over his stomach.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Charlie asks, circling his navel with her index finger.

Dean's whole body jerks in response to her words, his cock pulsing, his jaw dropping. He nodes shakily. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Good girls get rewarded for their behavior,” Charlie says as she leans down and licks into Dean's navel.

Dean's breath catches. The way she's talking to him, it's filling him with so many emotions that he couldn't even name them if he was asked to. Even the women he'd been with who had been okay with his gender issues hadn't used a feminine pronoun in their dirty talk.

Dean's eyes burned for a moment, and he felt slightly ridiculous for getting emotional when Charlie was nibbling and licking her way across his stomach, but he looked down at her, realized she was watching him carefully, not saying anything, but very attentive.

She had to know what she was doing to him. It had to be written all over his face. He didn't want her to stop, but it was taking him a moment to process this, and she was giving him that time.

“I-I want to be a good girl,” Dean dared to whisper.

It made his stomach quiver to say it, but it isn't upsetting. The more he thought about it, he'd waited so long, never expected to have this, and it's overwhelming. His dick is throbbing, Charlie's hair is tickling his hips, and he wants this. He wants this so badly he can taste it.

“Mmm, there's my good girl,” Charlie rasps, kissing Dean's belly.

He can sense she's still letting him process everything, but she must realize he's not going to completely freak out on her because she works her way up his chest, flicks her tongue over first his right, then his left nipple, then mouths around his left nipple, her lower body stretching out so that her belly is trapping his cock between them.

“Do you want me to suck on your little titties?” Charlie asks in between sucking nibbles.

Dean gasps, and he tries to speak, but when his brain doesn't function enough to allow him to speak, he nods. He's never called a woman's breasts titties. He's said tits, but never used titties before. It has a dirty connotation and coming from Charlie while she's hovering over him drives him a little crazy with need.

“You have such nice little tits, Dee,” Charlie says, reaching up with both hands, one hand on each area just below his nipples, cups them like there really are tits there.

Dean watches as Charlie uses her right hand to squeeze the skin around his nipple, gather it all together enough to make a mound, then mouths and sucks on it like it's a real tit, like it's more than enough for Charlie to play with.

Dean starts panting. He's never been more turned on in his life, and his dick twitches so hard that it's painful. He doesn't care about his dick at the moment because he can't wait to see what else Charlie has in store for him.

“Do you want to suck on my breasts, Dee?” Charlie asks as she looks him in the eye.

Dean nods stupidly. “Please,” he manages to beg.

Charlie slithers up his body. There's no other word for it but slither, and Dean love the feel of her body moving over his. She licks a stripe up his left cheek as she goes, then pulls up, her right tit just inches from his mouth. Dean leans forward, but Charlie backs up a little.

“Stick out your tongue,” Charlie says.

Dean immediately obeys, and Charlie thrusts her chest out just enough to rub her nipple over the tip of Dean's tongue. Dean wants more, but he stays still.

“You're being such a good girl,” Charlie says, smiling down at Dean.

She leans down for a gentle kiss, pulling back in between presses of her lips to his and licking Dean's lips. She leans back and rubs her nipple across Dean's lips.

“What do you say, Dee?” Charlie asks, rubbing her nipple over his cheek.

“Huh?” Dean asks stupidly, too dazed with arousal and excitement to understand what she wants.

“If you want something, how do you ask?” she says patiently.

“Oh! Please! Please, let me suck on your breasts,” Dean says, his fingers itching to touch her, gripping the sheets in an attempt to stay calm and let Charlie be in control.

“Mmm, there you go,” Charlie says, pushing her chest out more so that her breast smooshes over his lips and nose.

Dean moans as he opens his mouth and nuzzles her breast. They're perfect, he just knows it. And he wants so badly to touch them that his hands move to her waist and he holds on.

Charlie didn't say he could touch them, so he just mouths at her breast, licking a little, running his nose over the skin and smelling nothing but a hint of the soap Charlie uses and clean skin that just smells like Charlie. No masculine heaviness, and the taste just that wonderful mix of sweet and salty he loves about women, has always wanted for himself. He wished he could smell and taste as beautiful as a woman.

He hasn't even tasted her pussy yet, and already he's intoxicated by her. He focuses on her nipple next, not sucking too hard in case she's not into that, but when she shoves her breast harder into his face, a moan spilling from her open mouth, he takes that as encouragement and sucks on her nipple harder, using just a bit of teeth.

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie groans, her hips jerking into his stomach.

Dean wants to see if she's wet, but he doesn't want to take away her control of the situation, the control he's freely giving her. He gently runs his fingers around her sides, down her back until he's cupping her ass cheeks. She pushes her ass back into his hands, her chest pushing even more into his face, so he squeezes her ass, not too hard, but enough to get a gasp out of her.

Charlie starts grinding on Dean's stomach, and he groans into her breast when he feels her pussy dragging over his cock and stomach, his cock getting some rough treatment. Charlie shudders hard, so hard he thinks she about to come, but then she lifts her pussy right off his body and holds herself up. He blinks up at her.

“I didn't want to come until I was inside you,” Charlie says with a grin.

Dean chuckles. “If you're asking for my opinion, you can come as many times as you want to,” he says, wholeheartedly meaning every word.

He doesn't care at the moment if he gets to come as long as he can hear and feel Charlie come over and over again. Later, when he has a bad case of blue balls, he'll probably care more about not having come, but right now he just wants Charlie to fall apart on him.

Charlie smiles. “Oh, I will be coming at least twice tonight, but your opinion is noted,” she says as she settles back down on his stomach.

Charlie grabs his wrists, pulls his hands to her breasts, and he lets her use his hands to push and squeeze her tits. She grinds on his stomach again, only not as hard this time.

“Have you ever taken a dildo that big before?” Charlie asks as she tosses her head toward the tentacle dildo.

Dean shakes his head. “No. I've taken a few, but I'd say they were somewhere between medium and small-sized.”

“I can work with that,” Charlie says with confidence.

“I'm not worried,” Dean says with a smile as he looks her in the eye.

Charlie leans down, her lips ghosting over his. “Ever had a girl eat out your ass before?”

“No,” Dean whispers, his lips grazing hers as he speaks, his eyes widening as he wonders what she's up to.

“Would you like it if a girl at your ass out before she fucked you senseless?” Charlie asks, then licks his lips with a broad horizontal swipe.

Dean's breath catches, and he tries to answer, but instead something like a mix between a coughing choke and a squeak comes out of his mouth.

“I'll take that as an enthusiastic yes,” Charlie says as she sits up with a wicked grin on her face.

“Uh-huh,” Dean says as he nods his agreement.

“Now I really like asses,” Charlie says as she runs a finger down his chest. She crawls backward until she's kneeled between his spread legs again. “Sure, I really love pussies, and I really love tits, but a great ass trumps a great set of tits in my book. And you,” Charlie says, poking him in the chest, “have a great ass.”

Dean lets out a dirty chuckle. “I thought so myself,” he says with the most adorable look he can muster on his face.

Charlie leans back over his chest, her legs bracketing his with her knees under his thighs, his feet planted on the bed and legs bent at the knee. She kisses him hard, her tongue shoving in and practically fucking his mouth.

Dean reaches up behind her back, caressing the skin of her shoulders, running over her shoulder blades, then down her back and around her sides. Her skin is so soft, and she feels so warm, so right.

When she pulls away from the kiss, it's with a wet sound that makes Dean's balls tingle. She licks his lips one last time, then leans back, grabs him underneath each of his knees, and pushes his legs up, knees to his chest.

He feels so exposed that he blushes. After all the things he's done with women over the years, he doesn't remember a women ever manhandling him before, shoving him where she wants him, forcibly exposing him so intimately like this. He loves it.

“You're so pretty when you blush,” Charlie says with an affectionate tone to her voice.

Charlie watches him as she leans down and licks his balls. Dean's hips twitch, and so does his cock. She's looking at him with a hungry expression on her face that's taking his breath away even more so than the knees pushing into his chest.

Charlie gets a better grip on the backs of Dean's thighs to hold him where she wants him, then leans in again to lick the underside of his dick.

“You don't have to – ouch!” Dean yelps as Charlie bites his dick. She didn't bite hard, but enough to very quickly get his attention. He gapes up at her.

“Do I look like someone who does things in bed because I feel I have to?” Charlie says with one raised eyebrow and a dangerous look on her face.

“Uhm, no,” Dean squeaks.

“So when I lick your cock, it's because I want to lick your cock,” Charlie says. “Unless you want me to call it your clit,” she adds, the look on her face instantly changing from dangerous to inquisitive.

Dean shakes his head. “It's not a clit. I don't have –,” he starts to protest a little bitterly because he's got a cock whether he asks for one or not, damn it, but Charlie interrupts him.

“Okay, it's okay, Dee,” she says with a reassuring smile. “I really like you. And the cock between your legs gives you orgasms and fun times, which means I'm gonna play with it so we can have orgasms and good times. It's part of you, so how could I not like it and want to play with it? Got me?”

Dean relaxes. Even the worries he had still harbored after she'd told him about her previous relationships with males dies away. She means this. She likes him for him. And if he really thinks about it and keeps his own objections out of the way, she likes him for who he wishes he was already, and already in her mind, Dean's a she, Dean is Dee.

It truly doesn't matter to Charlie, and Dean was too stubborn to see it even up to just a minute ago. Again he notices she's paused to give him time to absorb the new information, and again he's grateful for it. She knows he's working through some of this stuff for the first time ever, unless her previous relationships where both males seemed to know what they wanted out of life, were sure in their sense of self.

“I got you,” Dean says.

He can't let himself have this thing he's always wanted inside his own head yet, but as far as Charlie goes, what she wants, what she sees in him, what she's doing to him, and everything in between, he gets it now. She wants her. She wants Dee, who Dean won't let himself be completely yet, but he's never been so close. He's never been on the cusp before. He'd only played with it, one-night stands offering him a glimpse of what could be his. He thinks he could eventually have it, but not yet.

Dean's thoughts fly right out of his head when Charlie leans down and licks a broad swipe over his asshole.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” Dean bellows as he tries to push his ass further into Charlie's face.

His knees pushed into his chest mean that all he ends up doing is squirming a little, and once he regains some of his brainpower, he realizes that was a good thing or Charlie would've gotten his ass shoved in her face.

“Somebody likes getting their asshole licked,” Charlie sing-songs, then blows over his asshole.

Dean shivers, the cool air flowing over his spit-slick asshole sending chills racing all over his body. “Yes, I, fuck, yeah. I like it. A lot,” Dean says, panting and squirming, and not caring a bit that he sounds desperate.

“Mmm, this'll be fun, then,” Charlie says, then dives back down.

Dean is lost to sensation for a long few minutes while Charlie licks over his asshole with first broad swipes, then little kitten licks. She swirls her tongue around, then pokes at his asshole with the tip of her tongue, making Dean yelp.

Dean's so lost that when she drops his left leg, holding onto only his right leg, he drops it to the bed with a whump, but she's already shoving him, positioning him how she wants, and his hips end up twisted, one ass cheek off the bed, the other on the bed, one knee in his chest, his opposite foot flat on the bed.

He hears a bottle top open on what sounds like a small tube of what he presumes is lube. When Charlie shoves a slick finger in beside her tongue, Dean claws at the sheets.

“I, oh fuck, please! Please, yeah!” Dean says incoherently, not caring all that much about what comes out of his mouth as long as she keeps going.

Charlie starts fucking his asshole with her finger, her tongue wriggling around sometimes near her finger, other times up and down his crease or out to his ass cheek. She bites his ass cheek, making him yelp and moan.

She shoves another finger in, and Dean expects it to be a little uncomfortable, but he hadn't realized how turned on he was. The other times he'd been pegged, it had burned some. It wasn't enough to make him call it quits, but it burned and hurt.

This time he's so desperate for more that he tries to push up onto her fingers. He doesn't end up moving much, but the keening noise that he's started making probably gets the message across to Charlie that he's thoroughly enjoying himself and would like more. At least he hopes she gets it.

Charlie moans into his skin, and Dean nearly comes just from the vibration it causes. Then he's pulled away from the edge of orgasm by a tugging sensation in his balls. It's not horribly painful, but it's enough to make him pay attention. He looks up, sees Charlie's right hand on his balls.

“You don't get to come yet, baby,” Charlie says with a shake of her head.

Dean groans. “I can do multiple orgasms in a night!” Dean whines pitifully, nearly pouting at her.

Charlie giggles. “That's good to know for future reference, but I'd rather you come while I'm fucking you,” she says.

“Future reference, my ass,” Dean grumbles.

Charlie chuckles, then shoves three fingers into his ass. He yelps and tries to squirm away. Two fingers weren't painful, but with the orgasm backing off and Dean having had time to tense up some, three fingers burns with the stretch.

Charlie works him slower than she did with the two fingers, letting him adjust, and soon he's trying to rock down onto her fingers again.

“You ready?” she asks, kissing his right ass cheek.

“Fuck me. Please,” Dean says as he nods.

Charlie lets his right leg down slowly, then turns and picks up the strap-on and the tentacle dildo. Dean's thighs are a little sore from being shoved up against his chest, but he could care less when he sees Charlie attaching the tentacle to the strap-on.

“You wanna watch me put it on?” she asks with a sly grin on her face.

“Hell, yeah,” Dean says as he scrambles to sit up. He's not going to miss this.

She stands up on the bed, and Dean nearly comes on the spot just because he knows she's standing up for him, knows she's giving him a show. This is the first time he's gotten a good look at her pussy, and she does have a little tuft of hair at the top of her slit with the rest of her pussy hairless.

He wants to eat her out so badly he whines. Charlie chuckles, and he glances up at her, then does a double take.

“I'm pretty wet already, but if you think I need more preparation before – oh!” Charlie moans, her sentence cut off by Dean jumping forward and pushing his nose into the crease between her thigh and pussy.

“Please. Please, I want to lick your pussy,” he moans into her leg.

Her hand rests on the top of his head. “Well, I suppose if you're going to be so polite about it, then yes,” Charlie says, then pushes his head a little in encouragement.

He doesn't need the encouragement, but he doesn't fight her either. He reaches up with both hands to hold onto her hips and gently licks her slit bottom to top, ending at the cute little patch of hair, which he then nuzzles his nose into and sniffs her.

“God, you smell so fucking good,” Dean groans, then kisses the little tuft of hair.

Charlie widens her stance on the bed so Dean has room to work, and he scoots closer so that he's sitting on his heels, his knees directly under her. He pulls her hips closer to his face and starts a gentle licking from the bottom to the top of her slit and then back again.

He grins when he feels her shiver against his face. She lets out a groan as he pushes between her lips just a bit, running his tongue up and down the length of her slit, moving a little faster now that he's just inside.

He's teasing just enough to get her to want more, but not enough to piss her off. On the next stroke up, he pushes in enough that he feels her hole and clit, getting a good taste of her slick. It tastes so good that he moans, making her squeak and push harder on his head.

“I think I don't want to wait to come inside you,” Charlie says with a breathless voice. “Your tongue. It's, oh, yeah. Your tongue is awesome!” she says, spreading her legs more and tilting her hips so he can lick deeper.

Dean pulls her toward his face with more force, wriggles his tongue in her whole enough to make her gasp, then moves to her clit, using some suction with his lips, then flicking her clit with the end of his tongue.

“Fuck! Yes, Dee, fuck!” Charlie yells as she tenses, shivers, and comes.

Her stomach is quivering, her pussy is contracting around his tongue, and he uses broad swipes of his tongue on her clit to get her through her orgasm. She's got both hands on his head and it feels like she's nearly riding his face she's moving so much.

As she comes down from her orgasm, he backs off, sitting back and looking up at her, his hands still on her hips to keep her steady.

She drops to her knees, bracketing his legs as she goes, and licks his lips hungrily. Her mouth is open and she's licking every trace of her slick off his lips, nose, and then dipping inside his mouth to get more.

He's so turned on he nearly comes, and all he can do is leave his mouth open for her and try to keep up as she grabs him, her hands on either side of his neck, shoving her tongue in to lick everywhere inside his mouth.

By the time she's done and sits back to look at him, Dean is panting, and he notices she is too, her breasts heaving with each breath in.

“I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with that mouth, baby,” Charlie says with a smirk.

Dean chuckles. “Anytime you want,” he says.

“I'll hold you to that,” Charlie says, then leans in for a quick kiss on his lips.

Charlie stands up again, though her legs are little shaky. She has the strap-on in her hand, the tentacle dildo still attached, and she spreads her legs again. He watches with rapt attention as she steps into the straps, pulls it up her legs, and slowly pushes the dildo for her side in.

She has to have done this more than once. It goes in smoothly and she tilts it just right, moaning as it goes in. The comfort level and familiarity with the strap-on makes him whimper, and he doesn't even know if she realizes that's why he whimpers.

Charlie pushes her hips out toward him, the tentacle dildo nearly touching his lips. It looks bigger now that it's on her, and he's a mixture of excited and a little nervous over taking it. He told her he's never taken anything so big, and she seems to know her way around it, so it's just a small amount of apprehension.

“On your back, Dee,” Charlie says as she kneels down.

Dean scrambles back, his head hitting the pillow and his legs spreading wide for her. She smiles, looking as if she thinks his enthusiasm is cute. She picks up the lube and squirts some more onto her fingers, then drips a small line over to the top of the dildo.

She uses her left hand to slick the dildo up and her right to shove two fingers into Dean again. He's still loose for her, so when she adds a third finger, there's no burn. She's just checking to make sure he's still open.

“Ready?” she asks with a raised eyebrow, her right hand wrapped around the tentacle dildo.

“Uh-huh,” Dean says, nodding as he bounces back and forth between watching her face and watching the dildo.

“Lift up your hips,” she says, grabbing a pillow with her left hand, then sliding it under his ass when he lifts.

Dean shoves another pillow in behind his head so he doesn't have to strain to see what she's doing to him. She knee walks closer, getting her knees under his upper thighs again, grabs his right leg and pushes it up and out to the side to make a better target for herself.

He holds his breath as she points the end of the dildo at his hole and moves toward it. She rubs the tip around the outside of his asshole, then pushes into his hole just a bit. Her hips start up a gentle rocking motion, taking her a little deeper with each forward motion.

Dean's mouth drops open, and he's still holding his breath. He reminds himself to breathe and ends up panting, not able to control his breathing. The head isn't so large that it's hard to get in, and he feels the small ridge as it goes in. He groans as he feels the three rows of vertical bumps start to slide into him, the dildo getting wider as it gets deeper.

Dean drops his head back onto the pillow as the dildo gets deep enough that the bumps start running over his prostate. His thighs shake and he grabs a handful of the sheets in each hand.

“You feel me inside you, Dee?” Charlie asks with a knowing grin on her face.

“Mmm, yeah,” Dean moans, then gasps as he gets a visual in his head of her using the tentacle dildo on herself. He closes his eyes, basking in the feeling and visual running through his head. Dean startles when Charlie smacks his left thigh with her hand.

“I want you here with me,” Charlie says, not sounding pissed, just like she wants his attention.

“Sorry, I was just imagining this going inside you,” Dean says with a sheepish grin.

She huffs. “I'm sure you'll get to see that. Right now I want you here with me and fully experiencing this,” she says as she twists her hips, driving the dildo in further and to the side.

Dean's back arches off the bed as he writhes in pleasure. The move she did with her hips dragged a few of the bumps on the dildo over his prostate hard. “I'm here! I'm right fucking here with you, totally experiencing this,” he says with a chuckle.

Charlie smiles sweetly. “That's my good girl.”

Dean feels warmth spread throughout him at the words. Charlie bottoms out with the tentacle dildo and Dean feels the harness rub against the skin of his ass. She doesn't give him much time to adjust, just starts fucking into him. She's not going all that fast at first, but she's going deep each in-stroke.

Once she has a good rhythm going, she leans over, puts her hands on the bed on either side of his torso, and kisses him as she fucks him. Dean lets go of the sheets, wraps his hands around her breasts, and kisses back, meeting her with the same intensity she's giving him.

He's missed this feeling of getting fucked. He hasn't done it a ton of times over the years, but he has enjoyed it every time. This time beats all the rest hands down. Charlie's great at this, is fucking him like no other woman has, and the way she's throwing her whole self into kissing him as her body moves over him, she's making it difficult to focus on anything but her, as if he even wanted to think about anything else.

She runs her tongue over his teeth, over the roof of his mouth, pushes and flicks at his tongue, then pulls out to suck open-mouthed kisses across his jawline, down his neck, behind his ear. She goes back to his neck and latches on, sucking and biting hard enough that he knows he's going to have a hickey.

She's marking him, and it makes Dean groan and arch his back, knowing that Sam's going to see it, knowing that she wants anybody who sees him to know she did that to him. It's possessive in a way that other girls just haven't been. Sure, he's been marked by girls before, but the intensity and the way she's doing it just screams possession and mine and not going to share.

He moves his thumbs to her nipples, rubbing over them roughly and making her moan. She finishes marking him and begins fucking him harder, faster. She's panting in his ear, snapping her hips up against him, and making little 'uhn' sounds that are driving him crazy with lust.

“Gonna come,” Charlie gasps in his ear. “Gonna come fucking you so hard you're going to feel it tomorrow.”

“Ah!” Dean yelps as she suddenly sits up straight and starts fucking him so hard he's bouncing with the force.

Charlie grabs his cock, hand slick with lube, and starts jacking him off with sure strokes that are almost too tight, but it feels nothing but good. Dean starts pushing up into her, meeting her thrusts the faster she goes. She uses her left hand to lean on his right hip, keeping her balanced while she fucks him even harder, strokes him even faster.

“Come for me,” Charlie says, looking down at him with eyes so dark he can barely see the green anymore. “I want you to come for me, all over your chest while I fuck you.”

Dean has nothing to hold onto but the sheets again. She's pounding him hard enough that he knows he'll feel it tomorrow, just like she said. Then he remembers the other half of the strap-on is inside her. He'd been so focused on everything else he'd forgotten that. When it hits him, the breath is punched out him, then he gasps in another breath.

His hips jerk as he comes, his back bowing and his neck straining as Charlie's hand jerks him off in perfect rhythm with her fucking.

“Yeah, all over. You're so messy. Fuck,” Charlie whines as she keeps fucking him.

As his cock twitches for the last time, he thinks she's going to stop, but she doesn't. He looks up at her, and she's not so lost in fucking him that she doesn't realize he's about to get sensitive. Her lips twist into a little grin, and he just knows what she's going to do. No one has ever done this to him before, and he hasn't even done it to himself.

“Be a good girl for me, Dee,” Charlie says, panting so hard Dean almost can't understand what she's saying.

Dean holds onto the sheets tighter as her hand on his cock starts to get uncomfortable. She's not slowing down, either in fucking him or jerking him off. He grits his teeth, not wanting to beg her to stop, both because he wants to be a good girl for her, but because there's a part of him enjoying the torture.

His stomach is pulling in, his body trying to get away from the too-much feeling of his cock being played with so hard after he's come, but she's got him right where she wants him.

“Ah, fuck!” Dean growls, squeezing his eyes shut and trying harder to not shove her off of his dick.

“Look at me,” Charlie says, whimpering following her command.

He does. And she moves her thumb to the tip of his cock, rubbing in a circular motion. “Fuck!” Dean yells. “Please! Fuck! Oh, fuck!”

Charlie squeezes his dick as her whole body starts shuddering with her orgasm. He watches every second of it, his teeth clenched and loving it. The rhythm of her hips is broken by jerky and uncoordinated movements, slamming into him and losing the grip on his cock.

“Oh, Dee! Fuck, yeah! Yes!” she yells as she leans harder on him, then lets herself fall onto his stomach and chest.

“Ah!” Dean yelps as the dildo gets shoved deeper into him.

They lie there panting for a while, Dean not minding at all that she's a heavy weight on him. He's feeling the strain in his thighs, he'd like it if the dildo could come out, but it's worth it to have her shivering through the little momentary aftershocks of her orgasm on him.

Dean lets go of his death grip on the sheets and wraps his arms around her back, running his hands up and down her back. “That. Was. Awesome,” Dean says, voice cracking and strained.

“Mmm, yeah it was,” Charlie mumbles into his neck.

“I wanna do that again,” Dean says, his eyes falling closed. “Just maybe not until my asshole recovers, and maybe my dick too.”

Charlie chuckles and turns to kiss his neck. “Your face was so adorable when I didn't stop jerking you off. I take it nobody's done that to you before.”

Dean snorts. “No. That was definitely a first for me.”

“Was it a 'hey, I wanna try this again' or was it more of a 'if she ever tries this on me again, I'm gonna punch her'?” she asks, lazily trailing her fingers over his biceps.

“Uhm, well, it wasn't horrible,” Dean admits. “I'd say don't do it every time and don't let me know ahead of time you're going to do it or I'll probably try to beg my way out of it.”

“Deal,” she says. “I was hoping it wouldn't totally ruin it for you, but I just had to do it. Your face when you realized what I was doing was too adorable not to.”

“Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it,” Dean teases.

Charlie pinches his side in retaliation. “Okay, let's get this thing out of you before I fall asleep on top of you,” Charlie says, pushing herself up. “Trust me. It's not a good idea to fall asleep with it in you.”

Dean hisses as she pulls out. It doesn't hurt, but it's an odd feeling when he'd gotten used to it inside him. She looks down at his hole, and he hisses again as she shoves her thumb in.

“Is it that sore or are you just sensitive?” she asks, looking concerned.

“Doesn't hurt,” Dean says as she runs her thumb around inside him, and Dean realizes she's checking to see if he's torn or injured.

“Don't try to be all big and bad about it. If it hurts, let me know,” Charlie says, looking him in the eye, her thumb still inside him, but holding still.

Dean shakes his head. “I'm not lying. It really doesn't hurt. It's sensitive and feels kinda weird now that I'm stretched to have something as small as your thumb moving in there.”

She smiles at him. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was fucking you really hard.”

“Yes, you were,” Dean says, a big grin on his face. “And it was awesome, which I believe I mentioned earlier.”

She giggles, pulling her thumb out and dropping the strap-on onto the floor beside the bed. She picks up her discarded shirt and wipes his chest and stomach clean. He feels a little funny letting her do the cleaning up, but he doesn't say anything.

“Can I sleep in here with you?” Charlie asks.

“I was hoping you'd want to,” Dean says as he scoots over toward one side of the bed, gets on his side, pulls the blanket up, leaving a space for her to snuggle up beside him.

Charlie grins, lets out a little happy squeal, then crawls in with him, her back to his chest, and he wraps the blanket around them both.

“Do you like morning sex?” Dean asks, then kisses the back of her neck.

“Hell, yeah,” she says with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. “And I'm hoping that'll be my alarm clock.”

Dean chuckles. “Yes, ma'am,” he says as he snuggles closer, her body feeling perfect curled against his.

Her breathing changes quickly, and he smiles at how fast she fell asleep. He doesn't stay awake long either, but he tries, wanting to make the night last longer. She moans in her sleep, and it makes him grin. He plans on waking her up in the morning with more of those moans.


	5. Part 4

Part 4

Dean wakes up, their positions having changed in the night. She's on her back with her hand flung over his neck, her other hand behind her, and her head is turned to her left, so he can watch her face as she sleeps.

Dean slips under the covers and gently spreads her legs, doing it slowly so hopefully he won't wake her up yet. She must be a fairly heavy sleeper because he's able to spread her legs and get on his belly between her legs without her even twitching.

He breaths in the warm, lightly musky scent of her pussy. He's on his elbows, and he uses his thumbs and index fingers to gently open her up to him. He leans in and runs his tongue along the inside of her lips, gently yet firmly enough to not tickle her.

Dean slowly licks her hole, keeping his movements smooth so he doesn't jar her awake. He moves even slower as he heads toward her clit, knowing its sensitive enough to wake her. He lets the tip of his tongue run around the clit before he flicks the end of it, and that's enough to make Charlie twitch and murmur in her sleep.

He nearly laughs. Dean and Sam had been light sleepers as soon as they hit their teenage years and ever since. Their dad had always been an extremely light sleeper, as had any hunter they came across. The fact that she'd lived her life not needing to be a light sleeper was making his chest swell with affection and happiness for her.

Dean pushes his nose into the little tuft of hair, the flat of his tongue licking a stripe up her clit. That makes her hips jerk and he hears her moan. Her legs spread more.

“Best alarm clock ever,” she mumbles with a morning-deepened voice.

Dean reaches under her legs. She takes the hint and puts her feet flat on the bed and lets her knees fall apart. He shoves his hands under her ass cheeks and pulls her up to his face as he starts lazily running his tongue over her clit, down her lips, across and dipping into her hole, then back up again.

He doesn't know how long he stays under there, and there's no rush, so he keeps it slow, enjoys the way her body moves against him, still heavy with sleep, and listens to the noises she makes, learning what she likes the best.

Dean's hard, but he doesn't even bother humping the sheets. It's all about Charlie this morning, and he gives her his full attention.

Charlie's thighs start to quiver, so he speeds things up a bit, shoving his tongue in her hole, fucking in and out, then moving up to her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth. He sucks on her clit, making her yelp and squirm.

When she comes, she does it gently, moaning her way through it and grinding down onto his face. He licks her clean after she's done and is totally relaxed again, then crawls up to lie beside her again.

“I repeat; best alarm clock ever,” she says as she wraps her arms around his neck, rolls him onto his back, and lays her head on his chest. She flops her right leg down on top of his, her foot in between his ankles.

The fall asleep again, and Dean tries hard to stay awake, listen to her as she sleeps, but it doesn't take long for him to doze.

\- - -

Dean wakes again, this time to Charlie sucking his cock. He's surprised she was able to get that far without him waking up, but he supposes it's because he's so comfortable with her already.

“Mmm, my alarm clock is awesome too,” he moans.

He looks down at her, able to see her looking back up at him because she's thrown the covers off him before crawling between his legs. She's watching him intensely, going just as slowly as he'd licked her earlier.

Dean shoves another pillow under his head so he can watch her without straining. She reaches up and runs the fingers of her left hand through his neatly trimmed pubic hair, tickling him with the light touch.

Her right arm is thrown over his left leg, leaning on his leg to give her balance as she swallows him slowly, backs off, then goes down again. Her left hand trails through his hair, down to his balls, rolling and gently tugging them.

She pulls off his cock, her left hand holding the base, then she blows over the tip, making him shiver. Charlie sticks her tongue out and starts flicking just under the head of his cock, and he tries hard not to thrust up.

He likes how she looks in the morning, he decides. Her hair is tousled, and she's not wearing any makeup, not even lip gloss. Her cheeks are lightly flushed, and her lips are already getting swollen and red from sucking his cock.

“You're beautiful,” he whispers, a soft smile on his face. “And it's not just because you have my cock in your mouth,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk.

She barks out a laugh. “This how you sweet talk all the girls?” Charlie asks with a grin.

“No,” he says honestly.

A genuinely happy smile spreads across her face. “Good. So I'm special?” she asks sweetly.

“Uh-huh. Very special,” he says, and he really means it.

He's never met anyone like her. He wants her all to himself, and the few times in life he's felt that way about a woman, he's never wanted it this badly before. He doesn't know if he'll get to keep her, but he's damn sure going to try.

Charlie gives him a scowl. “You're thinking too much for a girl who has her cock in my mouth,” she says.

Dean shrugs. “Sorry, It's just I...,” he starts, but trails off. He's been hurt enough that it's scary to put himself out there. And he has no clue what her plans are, but he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't at least try.

“C'mon, spit it out,” Charlie says, holding his dick to the side so she can hold a conversation with him for the moment.

His eyes are burning, and his throat feels like it's going to close on him. His erection doesn't seem to care that he's getting emotional, but Charlie notices and cares. Her smile falls.

“What's wrong, Dee?” she asks.

Dean lets out a nervous chuckle, looks around his room. He's making a home here. For the first time in his life he's got something he feels might actually be permanent. Maybe. Charlie's seen what goes bump in the night, and she's still here, she didn't back down.

He wants to ask her to stay, but rejection hurts so badly that Dean's scared. He wants to just live in the moment longer, fantasize that she's going to stay forever, but it's going to hurt much worse if he lets himself keep falling more and more in love with her. And, oh god, it's love, isn't it?

Dean feels goosebumps rise up all over his arms and legs. He knew he really liked Charlie, but the realization he's already falling in love, that's new. It happened when he wasn't paying attention, just enjoying her and getting closer. It's going to hurt either way whether he tells her and gets rejected or he keeps quiet and waits for her to leave first.

He feels foolish for falling so hard so fast. She plays the field. She likes having fun. Why would he think she'd stop that for him? Sure they get along well, and the sex so far has been awesome, but this started when she began helping him with his gender issues. What if that's all she's in this for? That and having a good time?

His chest hurts. And his erection is definitely flagging now. She's still looking at him expectantly, and it doesn't appear she's noticed he's no longer hard.

“I,” Dean starts. “I'm just really having a great time with you.” It makes his throat stick, and it's hard to get out, but he does it. He can do this. He can enjoy her while he has her. Something's better than nothing. And she's a great something.

Her smile returns. “I'm having a really great time with you too,” she says, then drops his dick to crawl up and kiss him deeply.

Dean grabs onto her with both hands, kisses her like something he's already got and can keep, but there's a wall that's gone up. It's okay to have fun. He can do fun.

Charlie starts writhing against him, which wakes his erection back up, so by the time she gets back down between his legs, he's hard again. She's within the top three when it comes to giving great head, in his opinion, and when he comes, it feels a little like goodbye.

\- - -

Dean feels a finger tapping on his shoulder, and he looks up from the book he's reading. Charlie is standing beside the library table with a shopping bag in her hand, a nearly manic grin on her face.

“I got you a present!” she says, shaking the bag a little.

“Cool!” Dean says, reaching for the bag.

Charlie snatches the bag back. “Uh-uh,” she says, her grin turning slightly evil. “Gotta open it in your room.”

Dean really wants to know what's in the bag now. Just as he opens his mouth to ask, Charlie spins around and takes off running for Dean's room.

He abandons the book and jogs after her. By the time he gets to the room and closes the door behind him, she's standing in the middle of the room with the bag hugged to her chest.

“Wait!” Charlie says, holding one hand out.

Dean freezes. “What?”

“I need to get some disclaimers out of the way first,” Charlie says.

“Okay,” he says.

“I know you said you weren't ready for this, but I'm going out on a limb by getting this for you,” Charlie says, her face showing her worry over Dean not liking the present. “You don't have to wear it at all if you don't want or you can just wear it in here. It's up to you. I can even take it back if you want.”

“Okay,” Dean says again.

Charlie walks up to him, hands him the bag, then stands back, bouncing on her toes, radiating excitement. Dean opens the bag and pulls out a school girl-type pleated mini skirt. It's pink and black plaid, and it looks short enough to be a lot of fun, yet still long enough it'll cover his junk.

He stands there holding it in his right hand, the bag in his left, just staring at it. He's nearly shaking he's so excited. It's another step. He doesn't even know if he's ready for the next step, but it's right here in his hand.

“Don't feel like you have to like it just because I bought it for you,” Charlie says.

Dean realizes he's been standing there staring, and poor Charlie is waiting to see if he's going to be upset by her gift or is he'll be okay with it.

He looks her in the eye. “Thank you,” he says, his lips twitching into a smile.

“You like it?” Charlie asks, her hands in fists and partway in the air like she's about to do a victory dance.

“I, yeah. Yes! I like it!” Dean stutters. “I really, really like it.”

“Yay!” Charlie says, clapping and doing a little wiggle, which makes Dean chuckle. “Try it on! Try it on!”

Dean's breath catches as he looks down at the skirt again. “Uhm,” he says stupidly.

“You don't have to, but you really look like you want to,” Charlie says as she walks up to him, takes the bag out of his hand, tosses it onto the bed.

Dean grimaces. “I'm all hairy,” he says, then scowls.

“Your legs?” she asks, and when he nods, she says, “I don't care! I wanna see if it fits!”

“Okay,” Dean says. He puts the skirt on the bed, then starts undressing.

Charlie goes to his dresser and pulls out his black tank top, then tosses it on the bed next to the skirt. Dean is naked beside his pink tanga panties before he realizes that Charlie is still completely dressed. He feels a quick flush of embarrassment, but he's too excited over the skirt to care all that much.

He's never worn a skirt before. He's taken plenty of skirts off women before, so he knows what to do. He undoes the hook, unzips, pulls it up his legs, then redoes the zipper and hook. Dean grabs the tank top and slides that on too. When he looks up at Charlie, she's got her hand over her mouth, her eyes are wide.

“Does it look bad?” he asks, suddenly alarmed.

“Hell no!” Charlie growls as she pulls her hand away from her mouth. “It's sexy as fuck!”

Dean lets out a nervous chuckle. Now that he's not freaking out over Charlie's reaction, he runs his hands down the sides of the skirt, feels the pleats, the soft material, and as he moves, he feels the skirt brush against his legs.

His breathing is uneven, and he can't decide whether he's scared by how good this feels or he's just plain excited over it. The skirt comes to about three or four inches below his ass cheeks, and he flushes as he realizes bending over would give anyone behind him a very obvious view of his ass in his pink panties.

For the first time since trying out all the panties and thinking of what he's going to do about his wardrobe, he's not turned on, and his dick doesn't try to join the party. It's not that he doesn't like it. In fact he's so happy about the skirt, feels so right in it that he's not even thinking of it sexually.

He figures that'll come sooner or later, but in this moment he really wants a mirror to check out his new skirt.

Dean walks over to the other side of his room, where he has a full-length mirror standing against the wall. It's nothing fancy. There's not even a frame on the thing, but it'll do the trick.

He can't help but gasp when he sees himself. His body isn't as soft and pretty as a girl's body, but the way the skirt falls against his legs, the way the tank top rides, making it almost look like he might have tits even if they'd be small, and the way the skirt moves when he moves is filling yet another empty spot he'd felt inside himself.

Charlie comes up behind him, grinning like a lunatic and vibrating with excitement. “Very pretty,” she drawls.

Dean can feel himself blush. He chuckles, then turns his hips back and forth so he can see the skirt move with his body, feel it against his legs. “Now I really want to shave my legs,” he says.

Charlie grabs him by the arm, turns him sideways. “Look in the mirror,” she says, pushing him so that he's bent at the waist just a bit. She lifts up the skirt on the side facing the mirror. “Check it out.”

Now Dean's getting hard. The panties peeking out and the glimpse of his ass check under the skirt is so hot he shivers.

Dean spins, wraps his arms around Charlie's arms and shoulders, and hugs her hard enough she squeaks a little. “Thank you,” Dean says, then turns and kisses the side of her head. “Thank you so much.”

“You're welcome,” Charlie says, wrapping her arms around his waist to hug him back.

\- - -

Charlie and Dean had gone shopping for Sam. He'd given them a list, making sure they both knew he'd wanted those exact ingredients, no substitutes, and they'd had to go to four grocery stores to find everything, but they headed back and carried everything into the bunker.

Sam smiled, thanked them, then told them to get out of the kitchen. Dean snorted and rolled his eyes when Sam's tail shooed them out. So they'd gone into the library. Not for anything specific, but more just to try and find something to do.

Dean sees the metal bookmark Sam had left sitting on the table, doesn't touch it, and warns Charlie about it. She nods her understanding and starts looking through the shelves.

Dean grabs a random book and sits down in a chair, a desk in front of him where he sets the book down. He's glancing through the pages, not really paying attention when Charlie comes up behind him, wraps her arms around his neck, and kisses his neck.

“My hickey is still there,” she says.

Dean chuckles. “Sam's been teasing me about it for two days,” he says.

Charlie giggles and licks over the hickey. “I'm going to have to freshen it up later so it doesn't fade.”

The same feeling that's been roiling in his stomach for three days flares again. Charlie has asked him a few more times if something's wrong, but he tells her it's nothing. He hates lying to her, but he just can't bring himself to say what's wrong.

“So have you fucked on the library table yet?” Charlie asks, then nibbles on his earlobe.

“No, I haven't,” he says, his fingers running over the pages in the book.

“Do you want to fuck on the library table?” she asks, letting go of him and pulling herself up onto the table, sitting down next to his book.

“It does sound like fun,” he replies, still looking down at the book.

Suddenly the book is shoved off to the other side of the table. He looks up at her and she looks kind of pissed. His stomach clenches, and it must show on his face that he's nervous and upset, but he can't fake it.

“I'm done,” Charlie says.

“Oh,” Dean says, his eyes looking off to the shelves.

“I'm done with you hiding something from me,” she says, then grabs his chin, forces him to look at her. “Whatever it is that you're upset about, I think it has to do with me, and even though you're hiding it most of the time, you're not hiding it completely, and I'm done letting you hide.”

“Oh,” Dean whispers.

“This is where you tell me what's wrong,” she says, letting her hand drop from his chin.

Dean's eyes immediately drop down to his lap. His eyes are burning, and he's scared that if he keeps looking at her, he's going to make a mess of himself. She doesn't deserve this. She's looking for fun, and he was fun, but now he's not. He should've worked at it harder, and now he feels stupid and petty about the whole thing.

“Are you not happy?” Charlie asks. “Have you changed your mind on the whole Dee versus Dean thing?”

It's the first time Dean has heard his real name in weeks, and it actually hurts to hear it. “No,” he says.

She sighs. “I can play twenty questions with you, but I'd rather not. I'd really like it if you told me what's wrong.”

Dean shoves his face into his hands, scrubbing his face in the hopes of making the stinging in his eyes go away. It doesn't work. He tries to rub his palms into his eyes, get the wetness away before she sees it.

“Dee?” Charlie asks, and the tone of her voice, the sincerity and concern in her voice cuts through him like a knife.

He pulls his hands away from his face. He might as well. She knows he's really upset. She's confronted him. The type of woman she is, she's going to keep trying to get him to talk, though she won't nag, just be so concerned that he feels like an ass for keeping it from her.

“I really like you,” Dean says, still looking down at his lap. He sniffs, feeling ridiculous.

“I'm...,” Charlie starts, then stutters. “I'm kind of lost here. Because I really like you too, and I kind of thought that was obvious. Did I miss something big?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I'm just an idiot,” he says, raising his eyes to look at her, and the look on her face sends another knife through him.

Her hands flutter at her sides for a moment, then she huffs. “Dee, please, I need more to go on,” she says with feeling.

Dean sighs, his shoulders dropping in defeat, his throat burning. “I went and fell in love with you,” he says with a sad chuckle. “And that was really stupid of me because I didn't see it happening until I was already falling hard, and I know you're having a good time, and I'm having a good time, and I know when you're done here and ready to move on, now it's going to hurt so much worse because I let myself fall so hard, and so I feel really stupid, and I'm sorry for acting like an ass, and I'm sorry for dumping this on you, and I'm sorry for... I'm sorry for almost everything.”

Charlie looks as if she's processing everything he's just admitted, and he wonders what's going on inside her head. The emotions on her face flit by so fast he doesn't know what she's feeling.

She rolls her eyes. “You know that thing I said back when we were wrestling on the mats? That thing about you needing to start listening like a woman if you wanted to be one?” she asks, a very odd look on her face and a tone to her voice that suggests she's a little ticked off, but not pissed.

“Uhm, yeah,” Dean says.

“Well, you need to work on the being oblivious like a man too,” she says, then smacks his arm. Hard.

“Huh?” he says, totally confused. Great thing about confusion, it dries up his tears.

“Did you not notice I've already moved in with you?” she asks as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah, no,” Dean says, his eyes widening. “What do you mean?”

“The room I was staying in is empty again,” she says, flapping a hand toward where their rooms are. “My clothes are in your dresser drawers, my stuff is in the nightstand, my computer is set up in your room, and all my bags are unpacked.”

“I'm, uhm,” Dean stutters stupidly. “I'm the one who's lost now.”

“Apparently,” Charlie says, rolling her eyes again. “Sam's already calling it “your bedroom” when he talks to me, I'm doing laundry and helping with cleaning around here, I'm going shopping with and for you, and did you even notice that my Facebook status is “in a relationship” as of not too long after I got here?”

“Oh,” Dean says, feeling kind of ridiculous.

The bridge of Charlie's nose wrinkles up in an adorable way. “Yeah, “oh.” Granted I talked to Sam and not you about the whole moving in and asked him for pointers on being in a long-term relationship with you, but still, it seemed like you were all for every bit of it.”

Dean is dumbfounded. He doesn't know what to say, what to think. And given that Charlie had already talked to Sam, he was the last to know he was in a relationship already.

Charlie shrugs. “Or at least you seemed like you were all for every bit of it until a few days ago, but I thought you were just working through things in your head, and I was giving you space to do that. Now I see you were pulling back, giving yourself space to keep from getting hurt when I decided I was done playing with you and was ready to move on. Have I got that right so far?”

Dean nods. His mouth is opening and closing, and he really probably looks like a fish, but he doesn't know what to say. His head is spinning, and he feels as if his world has shifted two feet to the right, leaving him behind to catch up.

Charlie slithers off the table and onto his lap, wraps her right arm around the back of his neck, and kisses him. He's too stunned to participate much, but the kiss calms him a little, ground him, makes him feel like things might be okay one of these days.

Charlie breaks the kiss and leans back to look him in the eye. “I've fallen in love with you over these past weeks, which is something that doesn't come quickly or easily for me, and I have a feeling it doesn't for you either.”

Dean shakes his head. “No, not so much.”

“You've been more than just a good time,” she says, wiping the last of the wetness from under his eyes. “I didn't know for sure if you were in this for the long haul, but I was hoping you were, and I was hoping you wanted that from me too.”

“I do,” he whispers.

“Then stop being oblivious. Again,” she says, then smacks him in the back of the head playfully.

Dean lets a small smile spread across his lips. “Uhm, I think I have a problem with obliviousness.”

Charlie snorts indelicately. “Ya think?”

Dean chuckles, then rests his forehead on her chest. This is actually happening. He's getting what he wanted of her. It's damn near overwhelming. It's overwhelming in a good way, but it's a rush to the head and a change of everything he'd been preparing himself for.

“So can we get back to having amazingly awesome sex?” she asks loudly.

Dean laughs, the tension breaking and his feelings for her soaring. His lungs feels too big for his ribcage. “I'd like that very much.”

“Well, then, I think you should fuck me in celebration,” Charlie says, hopping off his lap and grabbing him by the front of his shirt to pull him up.

“Right here?” he asks as he looks around the large room.

“Right here,” she says with an exaggerated nod, then stage whispers, “I told Sam we'd be having table sex and to stay in the kitchen until we're done.”

Dean starts laughing again. He wondered why Sam had that goofy grin on his face and was so insistent they get out of the kitchen.

“I'm totally clean. Are you clean?” she asks, poking him in the chest.

“Hell, yeah!” he says, realizing why she's asking. He's totally up for that. He's always had to be careful, and he'd only stopped using condoms with Lisa after they'd been together for a while. He'd not even gotten to that point with Cassie.

“Yay!” she says, clapping and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I totally prepared for the occasion by wearing a skirt and no panties!”

Dean hadn't even realized she was wearing a skirt. That's how upset he'd been. He feels silly for it now. He usually takes note of what she's wearing, not only because he really likes the way she dresses and she looks cute in damn near everything, but because he just likes women's clothes in general. They're so much nicer than clothes made for guys. There's more styles, more patterns, and such a wide range from playful to business-like, from cute and adorable to amazingly sexy, from conservative to leaving nothing to the imagination.

She's wearing a black and white striped A-line skirt that comes to just above her knees. It 's complemented by her black wedge heels and black baby doll T-shirt with a large, red, D20 die on the front of it.

But then the last part of her sentence hits, the part about no panties, and he groans, leans in to kiss her. She kicks off her shoes while they kiss, then she unhooks his belt, undoes his jeans, pulls his cock out, and starts to stroke it.

He kisses her harder, grabbing her ass with both hands, then lifting her up onto the table. Being a guy isn't cool with him for a lot of reasons, but when it comes to manhandling women, he does like it.

Once he sets her ass on the table, he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her down so she's lying back on the table. He crouches down and shoves his face under her skirt, licking her pussy fast and rough and making her yelp.

She puts her feet up on his shoulders, and he puts his hands on the edge of the table to steady himself with the added weight of her legs so he can concentrate on her pussy. Dean shoves his tongue in her hole, fucking in and out of it, not bothering to go slow or tease her at all. She's really excited, and her feet are pulling on his shoulders, her toes curling into him and trying to pull him to her pussy.

Dean licks broad swipes up and down her slit, getting her messy with his spit and the wetness she's already leaking. Then he attacks her clit, flicking it hard with his tongue and alternating the flicks with hard pushing with the flat of his tongue.

She shoves her pussy up into his face, trying to get more, and so he sucks on her clit. She squirms even more, panting hard and moaning loudly enough Dean thinks Sam might hear her, but he doesn't care.

“Dee!” Charlie yells, coming hard and thrusting up against his face, his nose mashing up against her little tuft of hair.

He doesn't even let her finish her orgasm before he's pushing into her, making sure he's not hurting her, but not stopping or giving her time to adjust. She gasps, and he feels her pussy contracting around him, the last of her orgasm ripping through her as he starts fucking her.

Dean leans over her, shoves her shirt up, and pulls her left bra cup out of the way, then starts mouthing her breast. He's fucking her hard and fast, his hands finding hers and lacing their fingers together. She's finally through with her orgasm, and she sounds as if she's well on her way to another.

Charlie's hips are thrusting up to meet his as he pounds into her, and she's grunting with nearly every thrust. He bites her nipple, and then grins as he hears her yelp.

“Fuck, yeah!” Charlie yells. “Fuck me, Dee! Fuck me!” she pants.

He's licking around her nipple when she lets go of his hands, grabs him by the face with both hands, yanks him up, and smashes their lips together, his hips still thrusting hard into her. They're both moaning into each others mouths, and Dean sucks on her tongue when she shoves it into his mouth.

She's got a hold of either side of his face still, and he lets her move him how she wants as they kiss. He wraps his arms around the back of her upper torso, lifting her off the table a bit, then wrapping his hands over the tops of her shoulders, pulling her harder toward him as he fucks her.

Dean's not going to last long, and Charlie's moaning kicks up a notch, her body already stuttering as she heads into her second orgasm.

Charlie pulls back from the kiss, looks him in the eye. “I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come!” Charlie growls as her body starts shaking, her pussy clenching hard around his cock.

He fucks her through her orgasm, her mouth open in a soundless scream until her body finally goes limp in his arms, then she starts moaning.

“Come for me, Dee,” Charlie says, her words slurred. “C'mon, baby.”

Dean whimpers, then his hips stutter as his orgasm hits. His eyes squeeze shut and he rests his forehead against her breast, burying his cock as deeply inside her as he can and grunting through his orgasm.

“Charlie!” Dean groans as his hips jerk out of rhythm, and then he comes to a stop, panting hard into her chest.

Charlie's breath is already coming under control, and she runs her fingers through his hair, moaning happily and wriggling beneath him a little.

“I like your way of celebrating,” Dean says, his speech nearly as slurred as hers was after her orgasm.

Charlie chuckles, then grabs his face again to give him a quick kiss. “I have awesome ideas.”

“Totally,” Dean agrees, then slowly stands upright.

Dean considers eating her out to clean her up, but he really doesn't like the taste of his own jizz. Girls taste so much better. So he takes off his flannel shirt, and as he pulls out of Charlie, he gently cleans her up, then himself. He pulls his pants back up and buttons them.

“Even after everything you've said about my dick and all,” Dean says, “I still wasn't sure if you'd let me fuck you.”

Charlie sits up. “Uhm, yeah, I'd let you fuck me,” she says with an adorable smirk on her face.

Dean chuckles, then helps her down from the table. She pulls her skirt down, pushes her bra back into place, and pulls her shirt down.

“I say we go take a shower together,” Charlie says. “And maybe I'll let you fuck me again before dinner.”

Charlie turns, picks up her shoes, and walks out of the library with a sway of her hips that makes Dean groan. He follows after her, his cock already twitching at the thought of showering with Charlie.

\- - -

One week and lots of fantastic sex later, they're still no closer to finding out why Sam has a tail and what to do about it. It's not become a problem. Sam's not acting weird. And in fact he seems quite at home with his tail.

Dean teases him about it, but he's careful to be out of tail reach when he does so because that tail hurts, damn it. The last time Sam got him good, Dean had a welt across both ass cheeks. Of course that turned out okay because Charlie insisted on licking and nibbling the welt for quite a long time in bed before fucking him with her strap-on, the alien dildo in place this time.

Sam has called around to a few people he hopes can help him, but he's careful about what he says, and no one has any information. He doesn't seem upset by any of it, but all three of them have to wonder if something bad will happen.

Dean gets a call from an old friend of his dad's who says he has a gremlin problem again. Well, gremlin is what Tulley called it, but from his dad's note, Tulley had an imp infestation years ago.

“Please!” Charlie drawls, eyes big and round, grabbing his arm as if squeezing it will show Dean just how badly she wants him to say yes.

Dean huffs, looks to Sam for help, but Sam just shrugs. “Thanks for the support,” Dean grumbles.

Charlie sidles up next to Dean, her breasts pressing into his arm in a move that he thinks is probably calculated, and she rests her cheek on his upper arm, gazing up at him.

“I'll do everything you say, I won't get in the way, and if you say run, I'll run, but please!” Charlie begs.

“It's just imps, Dee,” Sam says with a wince.

They both know things that seem simple don't always turn out to be simple, but imps really are more mischievous than maliciously dangerous.

“I'll blow you on the way,” Charlie sing-songs.

Dean hears Sam make a bit of a squeaking noise and turns to smirk at him. “I think that might make Sam a little uncomfortable unless we do it while he's napping or something in the back seat,” Dean says, watching Sam's cheeks flush.

Sam clears his throat. “It's less than four hours to get to Omaha, Nebraska,” he says. “It's a good hunt for us to take her on if she wants to get some experience.”

Dean thinks about it. Sure, he's worried about her, but she'll be with two experienced hunters. Even if they have to end up telling her to just run, like she says she'll do if they say so, this is a really tame hunt, and she should be okay.

“Would you mind driving while we sit in the back, Sammy?” Dean asks, waiting for Sam's cheeks to flush an even darker shade of red. They do, and Dean grins unrepentantly.

“Yes, I would mind,” Sam says with a sour look on his face. “Four hours of blue balls and dealing with beings that would get a kick out of teasing me is not my idea of fun. And then I'd have to deal with the imps.”

Charlie snorts into Dean's arm and Dean chuckles. “All right, fine,” Dean gives. “We'll try and keep it to a minimum and I'll drive.”

“Thank you,” Sam says, then spins on his heel and heads toward his room.

“Do I get any weapons?” Charlie asks as she pushes away from him to bounce on her toes, her hands fluttering excitedly at her sides.

“Yes, you'll get a weapon,” Dean says indulgently. “But you've gotta change your clothes.”

Charlie looks down at her pajama bottoms, the T-shirt she's wearing that's actually Dean's, and her bare feet. She looks back up at him and scowls. “Fine. But it would've made the car ride more comfy,” she says, then hurries off to their room.

Dean grins as he watches her practically run. He loves that it's their room. It's become theirs after Dean got his head out of his ass and realized what was going on with Charlie's help. He insisted she make it her room too, so there's an actual computer desk in there now for her laptop and some of her gadgets.

Dean bought her an ergonomic chair for the desk after he came in and saw her hunched over, sitting on an old trunk that wasn't tall enough for her to use as a desk chair.

The bed has more pillows than before, and the bedspread is larger, more colorful with tastefully subtle white flowers on a dark brown background. Half the drawers in the room are hers, and he can't help but smile when he sees her shoes sitting alongside his on the floor.

She's made her mark in other parts of the bunker as well. She's found an old overstuffed chair and ottoman on Craigslist that she and Sam went to pick up. It's in the library, and it's where Charlie can be found whenever she's not in their room, cleaning up somewhere around the bunker, or learning self-defense in the room they've set aside for it with mats all over the floor.

An imp is fairly easy to kill, and so on the way to Omaha, Dean and Sam warn Charlie about how fast they can be, how sneaky they can be, and to keep an eye out for traps.

Dean gave her a switchblade made by a hunter named Riley they'd known for years. It was fashioned after the Smith & Wesson Black Ops Switchblade. The differences were subtle, but hunters didn't usually like safety latches, so those weren't included in the design, and screws falling out were a pain in the ass and deadly, so Riley had improved upon the design and sold them much cheaper than they could get one just walking into a store and buying a real Smith & Wesson.

They hadn't trained her with a gun yet, so Dean didn't give her one, but he did give her a small flamethrower they'd put together themselves. It wasn't as big as most flamethrowers, so instead of being strapped to her back, it was hand-held. It wasn't as dangerous as holding a lighter up to an aerosol can, but the size was comparable. Dean had shown her how to use it the day before, and her eyes had lit up with excitement when she used it.

Charlie had dressed in black jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt. Dean was happy with how her new boots fit, and they finished the look, making for a very sexy huntress. Dean had thoroughly appreciated her ass in the jeans.

“So do I have to stay quiet or can I talk around the homeowners,” Charlie asks, turned toward Dean in the front seat.

Sam is stretched out in the back seat, sitting on the passenger side with his legs sprawled out and partially in the driver's side foot well.

“We try not to scare the shit out of homeowners,” Dean says, turning the music down so they can talk more. They alternated between talking and going miles just listening to music. “But Tulley was clued in years ago to the supernatural, so you shouldn't have to worry about that. And yeah, you don't have to be the silent partner, here.”

“Do I get an alias?” Charlie asks, sounding more excited. “Ooh! Do I get a fake ID?” she asks as she bounces in the seat.

Dean chuckles, and as he looks in the rear view mirror, he sees Sam is grinning. Sam has apparently decided Charlie is the little sister he never had, and for the first time in his life, barring any feelings or attachment he had for Adam because he really didn't get to spend time with him, Sam gets to be a big brother.

Dean thinks it's adorable. Charlie has run with it, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. She can do no wrong in Sam's eyes, and if there's a disagreement between Dean and her, Sam gives Dean the Death Glare and tells him he's being an ass. Sam's become protective of her, and he's also helping with her training.

Sam spent an entire day cooking a meal for her three days ago because she'd mentioned it was her favorite, but she didn't get to eat it often because it took so long to marinate and cook.

“I've already made you a few fake IDs,” Sam says.

Charlie squeals and bounces even harder on her seat. “Where are they? Who am I? Am I somebody cool? Do I have any badges? Ooh, do I get to be an FBI agent? I could totally do the whole wallet flip and show my badge off. That would be so cool!”

Sam and Dean both chuckle. Dean glances back at his brother. “You'd better get her at least one badge now,” Dean says.

Charlie gasps and turns around, her knees on the seat. “I do get a badge?” she says with so much enthusiasm that Dean wishes he could see her face.

“Yes, I'll make you one,” Sam says with what Dean likes to call Sam's 'I have an adorable little sister' voice. It's a mixture of indulgent, patient, affectionate, and with a good dose of love on top. Dean gets a huge kick out of it.

“Yay!” Charlie says, and Dean can hear her clap. “What are my aliases? Ooh, do I get cool classic rock names like you guys?”

“Well,” Sam starts, and Dean can hear the wince in his voice, “there weren't that many notable classic rock females who have names that aren't ridiculously memorable, so what I had to do was go with more modern rock female names.”

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie says with her 'I'm thinking' voice, and Dean knows there's a cute little scowl on her face when she uses that voice. “That makes sense, I guess.”

“I went with Rayna Foss from Coal Chamber, Kim Gordon from Sonic Youth, and Linda Perry from 4 Non Blondes,” Sam lists. “I'll make more up later, but those should get you started.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Charlie says in a voice that makes Dean's chest swell with affection.

Dean knows that voice totally melts Sam, so he looks in the rear view mirror in time to see Sam's cheeks flush a little and his dimples come out in full force as he smiles back at Charlie.

“You're welcome, sweetie,” Sam says.

Charlie turns back around in her seat, and she's radiating energy. Dean swears it's palpable. And it's something he loves about Charlie. She's not the loudest person he's ever met, but she has an energy about her that is infectious.

“Okay, one more time,” Dean says as they turn down a dirt road leading to Tulley's house. “What kills an imp?”

“Pretty much anything that kills a human except lack of oxygen,” Charlie recites.

“And what do you keep in mind at all times?” Sam prompts from the back seat.

“That you guys need to be within sight and within hearing distance,” Charlie lists, holding up a finger to count each item, “I need to run if one of you says run, don't be a hero, ask for help, watch for traps, and never turn your back on an imp.”

“Awesome,” Dean says as he reaches over and pats Charlie's leg.

Charlie wraps her fingers around his hand, holding tight for a moment. He knows she's nervous. She's excited too because this is her first hunt where it's voluntary from the beginning to the end, not forced upon her by necessity. But anything can happen, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous too.

They'd left at four o'clock so they'd get to the house around dusk. Imps are active at night, hide and sleep during the day, so there was no sense going in the morning unless Tulley had found where they were holed up, which he hadn't.

The sun is just setting as all three of them get out of the car, stepping out onto a gravel driveway leading up to a rather nondescript ranch house. Off-white paint, dark gray roof, one story with shutters on all the windows. There are a few bushes and trees strewn about the property, but being just outside Omaha in farmland, they don't have neighbors who are close by.

Tulley is standing on his porch, and he waves to them, then walks out to meet them. “Hey, boys,” Tulley says with a bright smile.

Dean remembers Tulley always smiling. When he was in the middle of the last imp infestation, the guy had cracked a joke about it even as John had stitched up Tulley's leg after he'd fallen through a broken board in his barn, his leg going through and getting scraped up.

“Hello, sir,” Dean says as he shakes Tulley's outstretched hand.

“And who is this gorgeous young lady?” Tulley says. He's got more gray in his hair than Dean remembered from last time, but his scruffy beard still has some dark brown in it.

Charlie giggles as Tulley takes her hand in his and kisses the back of her hand. “I'm Charlie,” she says.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” Tulley says. “I hope these boys are treating you right,” he says as he eyes up Sam and Dean.

Dean's breath catches, his stomach clenching. Other than clerks in grocery stores, Tulley is the first one to refer to Dean as a male in weeks, and it tugs at something in Dean. He'd gotten used to Sam and Charlie going with the flow, letting him be who he wanted to be, not pressuring him either way, and being so awesome about it that he'd gotten used to it.

It's a smack in the face, even though he knows he should have expected it. He's wearing panties, but other than that, everything about him says male. Tulley had no way of knowing, and Dean didn't even think he wanted Tulley to know.

The fact that Dean still can't refer to himself as she wasn't a big thing to him. Well, it was and it wasn't. He knew he'd get there one day, but it wasn't something he actively thought about all the time. To have Tulley refer to him as one of the boys was something Dean should have been ready for, and he kicks himself for letting his guard down that much.

“They spoil me, Mr. Tulley,” Charlie says, leaning to her left and smashing into Dean's right side.

Dean smiles. “We do, sir,” he says as he looks down at Charlie.

“Well, I suppose I should get out of your hair, kids,” Tulley says. “I sent the wife to her sister's yesterday afternoon when I realized what was going on, and I'm about to head that way myself, as per your instructions.”

“Thanks, Tulley,” Sam says. “We don't mean to throw you out of your own house, but –,”

“Don't worry about it,” Tulley says, waving off Sam's polite excuses. “I understand this is what you boys do, and I don't want to get in the way. Just let me know when me and the wife can come back home. Everything's unlocked at the moment, but here's the key if you need it,” he says as he hands Dean the key.

“Have a nice visit with the in-laws,” Dean teases, knowing Tulley's brother-in-law is a little hard to get along with.

Tulley rolls his eyes. “Can't wait,” he grumbles. “Oh, and there's an envelope on the kitchen table for you. I'm confident you'll take care of our problem, and I really do appreciate it.”

“You don't have to –,” Dean starts.

“Nothin' doin',” Tulley says as he claps Dean on the shoulder. “Token of my appreciation, and you'll accept it graciously and not insult me by fightin' me on it, understood?” he says as he raises an eyebrow.

Dean chuckles, then nods. “Okay, well, thank you, sir,” he says.

“Keep safe,” Tulley says as he waves, heading off toward his pickup truck.

The three of them wave, then Sam goes to the car, pulling out a few weapons from the trunk. Dean grabs Charlie's hand, and together they walk toward the barn. They do a full check of the outside of the barn, looking at the integrity of the building and the basic shape, checking for holes in the wood and ground around it. It's around forty feet wide by maybe one hundred feet long, and they can see that it has a loft area.

“I'm looking for any evidence the imps have been active outside first,” Dean says halfway through their circuit around the barn, remembering Charlie's new to this and needs to know the hows and whys.

“Kind of like that?” Charlie asks as she points to a mound of fresh dirt against the back of the barn.

Dean smiles as he nods. “Exactly,” he says, walking her over to the mound, but staying a few feet back. It's been built up against the wood to a height of about one and a half feet. “Not many people would notice something like that. You're a natural,” Dean says as he squeezes her hand.

She gives him a big smile in return. “Are you going to do anything to it?”

“Not right now,” Dean says. “If that's their way in or out of the barn, I'll keep it in mind, but I don't want to make any big changes to what they've done yet.”

“Okay,” Charlie says, then walks along with him as they come back around to the front of the barn.

Sam's there, and he hands Charlie her flamethrower and a cattle prod with a nearly four-foot reach, Dean his gun and hatchet. Sam's left with the taser clipped to his jeans, a handgun, and a modified hatchet that has blades on both side of the head instead of just a blade and a blunt side. Charlie puts the strap of the flamethrower over her shoulder so she can hold her flashlight with a free hand.

“I'll take point,” Dean says. “Charlie, you stay between us at all times, and Sam will take the rear. Keep vocal about anything you see or if you feel anything odd. Instinct might kick in for you, and if it does, speak up about it. Gut feelings have kept us alive more than once. Keep your voice low, watch for hand signals from me and Sam.”

“Gotcha,” Charlie says, looking a little apprehensive but there's excitement in her eyes too.

Dean opens the barn door, his flashlight on, and checks inside for anything obvious before stepping in. He hears Charlie and Sam moving behind him, each of them taking in their surroundings, three beams of light panning around the inside of the barn.

There's not much in the barn. Tulley doesn't have animals anymore since he and his wife were getting older and made enough money from their home business to keep them living comfortably. The rusty Studebaker Tulley's had forever is covered with a tarp in the middle of the barn.

Dean's flashlight shines over a few stacks of boxes toward the far right of the barn, but nothing is out of the ordinary from this distance. There's a workbench to their left with neatly arranged tools hung on a peg board above it.

Dean glances at both Charlie and Sam, looking for any sign of something odd they may have picked up on. A subtle shake of Sam's head lets him know Sam hasn't seen anything and Charlie shrugs.

They walk toward the center of the barn, Dean's flashlight sweeping the far left corner, Charlie looking under the Studebaker from a distance in case there's something under there, and Sam is checking out the boxes Dean saw to the right.

Dean freezes as he hears a soft click, then swallows a yelp as a sudden and sharp pain flares in his right calf. He hisses out a “fuck,” letting Sam know something's wrong, but also letting him know t's not serious enough to drop everything and run to him.

He hears Sam working his way over to him, most likely sweeping the area so they don't get caught unaware, and keeping an eye on Charlie. Dean looks down, his flashlight finding blood on his blue jeans, a small stick coming out of his calf. There's not an alarming amount of blood, but Dean hopes the stick wasn't tipped with anything poisonous.

Keeping alert to his surroundings, Dean crouches and pulls the stick out of his leg. It burns more than it should, and when he looks at the end of the stick, it's obviously been whittled into a little javelin. When Dean senses Sam coming up to him, he keeps his eyes on his surroundings as he holds the stick up for Sam to take.

Sam takes the stick, and Dean can hear Sam sniff the end of it, checking for any substance he might be able to smell that might be dangerous.

Dean glances up at Sam to see Sam's expression, which says he doesn't smell anything, but he pockets the stick anyway. Dean stands, his leg not happy with moving, but it won't kill him. Dean sees Charlie moving around the Studebaker still, pointing her flashlight at it and looking as if she really wants to pull the tarp off the thing.

He motions to Sam, letting him know he's going to check out the car with Charlie and that he wants Sam to have their back. Sam nods.

Dean walks up next to Charlie, and the look she gives him sends chills up his spine. He raises his eyebrows in a question.

She points at her stomach then the car, and it takes a moment, but Dean gets it that she's got a gut feeling about the car. He nods, then waves her back, glances over at Sam, pointing toward the car to let Sam know he's going to take the tarp off. Sam nods and steps back a few feet so he can get as much of the barn in his peripheral vision as possible.

Dean pulls hard on the tarp to get it off the car quickly. Charlie's light shines into the back of the car while Dean aims his into the front seat. Charlie grabs his shirt and yanks a little, so he makes sure to check that the front seat doesn't have immediate dangers as quickly as possible, then takes a step toward the back door, holding his flashlight so he can see into the foot wells of the back seat.

It's filled with dirt, boards, and what looks like some of Tulley's flannel shirts torn into pieces. Dean lifts his left hand up high enough to get Sam's attention, then points down to the back seat of the car, letting Sam know he's found something and is about to check into it.

Dean doesn't bother glancing at Sam. Years of working together gives them an almost sixth sense about each other, and Dean knows Sam saw him by the soft hiss Sam just let out, and he knows Sam is keeping an eye on everything he can.

Charlie stays back, but her light continues to shine into the back seat. Dean pulls the back door open, shining his flashlight down into the foot well of the passenger side, which is closest to him, in case something's ready to jump out and bite him.

Nothing's there but more of the dirt and flannel shirt pieces. Dean holds out his hatchet, shoving the shirts to see if anything's in them before daring to get his hands anywhere near them.

Sam's gun fires, Charlie yelps, and Dean spins to see that Sam has killed one of the imps as it was crawling out from under the car. It had been about a foot away from Charlie.

Dean turns too late, and something hits him in the left chest. He sees it out of the corner of his eye, coming from the mass of shirt pieces, but he's on his back before he has a chance to do anything about it.

A flare of pain spreads from where the thing hit him in his chest, but there's a blur of movement too fast for Dean to follow, and just as he thinks possibly the stick did have something on it that's affecting him, he hears Charlie scream Sam's name, Sam yelling “Dee,” and then the world goes dark.


	6. Part 5

Part 5

Dean wakes to pain all throughout his body. He hasn't opened his eyes, but he wants to cry because it just hurts so badly. He hears himself whimpering, but he can't stop himself. It's everywhere. He can't pinpoint any area in his body that hurts worse than another, which makes it hard to control his reaction to it.

He tries. He really does. But not having a focus point makes him flounder, and he knows he hits something with his hand, and he starts to panic when he feels his arms being held down.

Dean opens his eyes, then squeezes them closed again because the light makes the pain in his eyes even worse. He's kicking his feet, writhing around, but something's holding him securely.

He finally hears someone talking to him. He wants to listen. He knows it's important. The voice is demanding he listen, but he hurts so badly all over, and he's trapped by arms wrapped around him, and he's scared because this just isn't right.

“Calm down, Dee,” Dean hears Sam's voice say near his right ear, feels the warmth of breath ghosting over his ear. “It's me. It's Sam. You're okay. You're in Tulley's house, in his bed. I'm right here. Charlie's here. You just need to calm down. You're okay.”

There's shooting pain going everywhere. He thinks his muscles are contracting, because it feels like his whole body is one giant charleyhorse. Sam's telling him to calm down, so things must not be as bad as they feel. He trusts Sam to not lie to him if something's horribly wrong. If he was badly wounded, Sam would try to calm him down, but he wouldn't try to convince Dean he was okay.

Dean forces himself to stop flailing, but he's still whimpering, and he realizes he's shivering now that he's stopped flopping about. “Hurts,” Dean hisses.

“Where does it hurt?” Sam asks.

“Everywhere,” Dean whines, panting hard, his teeth chattering like he's cold. In fact he is cold, now that he thinks about it. There's ice going through his veins, and that can't be good for the muscle spasms.

“Okay, you're going to be okay,” Sam says soothingly. “You've been out of it for a while, and I called around, got some info about imp bites.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans as he shivers so hard he bites his tongue. “It fucking bit me?”

“Are you cold?” Charlie asks.

Dean knows he was worried about her before, terrified something was happening to her, but he can't remember why. Now that he hears her voice, the part of his brain screaming at him that somebody else might be hurt finally settles.

“Yeah,” Dean says, and he swears his lips have to be blue. How can they not tell he's freezing instead of just a little cold? “Cold!” he whimpers.

He feels a blanket being thrown over him, Sam's arms still holding him down. He attempts opening his eyes again, and this time the light isn't stabbing into his brain, so he squints, sees Charlie hovering over him just out of flailing distance.

He'd hit something before. Shit. “Did I hit you?” Dean asks her.

“You hit Sam,” Charlie says with a wince.

“I'll live,” Sam says.

“Good,” Dean says, thankful for the distraction from the pain. “I hate it when you die.”

Sam chuckles, and Dean feels Sam's breath on the back of his head. He realizes Sam is lying behind him on the bed, arms wrapped around Dean from behind, and Sam's right leg is thrown over his to keep him from kicking.

“So, what the fuck?” Dean says through clenched teeth.

“It's not a well-known fact,” Sam says, “but imp saliva is toxic.”

“Fuck, now you tell me,” Dean says, the shivers and muscle spasms making him jerk, nearly make him bite his lip.

“It's gonna hurt like hell,” Sam says, and Dean snorts, “but it'll only last for a few hours, and you'll be okay.”

“Yay me,” Dean grumbles.

“I'm pretty sure the stick was tipped with spit, and then the one that jumped out of the car bit you in the chest,” Sam says.

“I felt that,” Dean says.

Charlie looks worried. He thinks she's not freaking out, but it looks like it's taking effort on her part to keep calm. He wants to comfort her, but it's all he can do to keep from crying from the pain and keeping up the conversation.

“From what I learned,” Sam continues, “it's a self-defense mechanism. It probably would've bitten Charlie had I not shot the first one, and when the other one bit you, it gave you a big enough dose to knock you right out.”

“You guys are okay?” Dean asks as he looks Charlie over. He can only see her from the waist up, but she looks okay.

“We're okay,” Sam reassures him. “And Charlie was awesome!”

Charlie blushes, and Dean wishes he could kiss her. The worried look on her face softens into something that looks like a little bit of pride. Dean figures she's taking his ability to speak as a good sign that he'll live.

“She knocked the fucker off you with the cattle prod, shocked it, then when it was rolling around in the dirt next to you, she hacked its head off with your hatchet,” Sam says, and Dean can hear how proud Sam is of Charlie.

“I knew you were a natural, baby,” Dean says with as much of a smile as he can with his teeth chattering.

“It was latched onto you,” Charlie says, her voice a little shaky, and it almost looks like she's about to cry, but she's obviously trying to keep it together. “That creepy little thing had teeth like a shark, and when you passed out, I thought...,” she says, then trails off, her lip wobbling a little.

“Charlie got done killing the fucker,” Sam says, “then she turns and rips your shirt open as I'm checking for a pulse. As soon as I say you're alive, she uses your shirt to wipe out the bite, probably saving you a few hours of more intense pain.”

“That's my girl,” Dean says, looking up at her with adoration he hopes she can see.

She lets out a watery chuckle, still keeping it together, but just barely. He knows she wants to be strong and brave. She's a tough girl and she did wonderfully.

“I'm still really cold,” Dean says. “I think I need somebody to share their body heat from the front since Sam's got my back, and it feels nice back there,” Dean says with as much of a grin as he can muster.

Charlie jumps up, takes her shoes off, and climbs under the covers, snuggling up against Dean, burying her head under his chin, wrapping her left arm around him, her right arm scrunched up in between them.

“Mmm,” Dean moans. “Much better.”

“I'm not sure how long it's going to last,” Sam says, “but what you're feeling now should be the worst of it.”

Dean moans. He really should be happy. It hurts like hell, just like Sam said it would, but Dean had learned long ago that things could always get worse, so he soaks up the warmth offered by the two people who love him most in the world and tries to focus on them rather than the pain.

He starts to lose his focus, thought, and the muscle spasms get worse, his body jerking, and he whimpers as he tries to pick something to focus on.

“Once upon a time,” Charlie starts, “a very brave woman named Codex had been imprisoned and sentenced to execution in a town named Helgen. Just as she's being led out to be executed, a dragon attacks the town, destroying it. Codex escapes, making her way to a city named Whiterun.”

Dean's instantly focused on Charlie's words. He knows what she's trying to do, and he could kiss her for helping him. He has no idea what she's talking about, but it sounds interesting, and it's working. His breathing is calming down, his muscles relaxing some even though they're still spasming and cramping, and he closes his eyes to create a visual of Charlie's story.

\- - -

“Drink,” Sam insists, pointing at the tea on the table in front of Dean.

“It tastes like shit,” Dean whines, trying for pathetic, but Sam and Charlie both seem unimpressed.

He's still a little chilled, but he's feeling tons better than a few hours ago. Charlie has made him a sandwich, but for some reason, which Sam thoroughly explained and Dean paid no attention to, Sam says Dean needs to drink the horrible-tasting tea in front of him. And he's holding Dean's sandwich for ransom.

Dean grumbles, but finishes half the mug of tea. Sam sets the sandwich down as a reward, but taps his finger onto the table next to the mug, letting Dean know he needs to finish the tea.

Charlie tilts her head toward the manilla envelope on the kitchen table. “So?”

Sam picks it up, opens it, and pulls out a paper with a handwritten note on it. He holds the paper out, reading from it. “I never got the chance to tell your daddy how much I appreciated the phone call when my daughter Elaina died. John cleared out that imp infestation years ago, kept in touch every once in a while to see how we all were doing, and after he found out about Elaina, he called me to offer his condolences and asked if I needed anything.

That meant the world to me and Linda. I was so messed up at the time that I took his advice, his condolences, thanked him, and said goodbye. I found out a few months later that he died, and I wished I had given him a call, let him know how close I was to calling it quits and leaving behind a wife to grieve not only for her daughter, but also her husband. That would've been a very selfish move on my part.

What he said to me changed my life, and that debt can never be repaid. I hope you don't think I'm putting a price on what your daddy did for me, but Linda and I have done well for ourselves, we've talked about this, and we decided you boys and your daddy have dedicated your lives to doing what the rest of us can't, so we want you to have this.

The checkbook in the envelope goes to a account. Linda and I have switched the account over from a high-interest savings account to a checking account. We also switched the names on the account to the names on the IDs we left inside the checkbook with your pictures on them. You boys can either leave the money in the account and use the checks and debit cards or you can take the money and close the account.

I don't want to hear anything about it being too much. Linda and I had set a big initial amount of money aside for Elaina when she was born, put it in a savings account, added to it every month like clockwork, and paid into it even after she died because we couldn't bring ourselves to stop until shortly after your daddy died.

Elaina would've been seventeen by then. She'd wanted to be a doctor since she was about four years old. She'd broken her arm, and the local doctor fixed her up. From that moment on she wanted to help people like the doctor had helped her.

Elaina's gone, and I've made peace with that, but we want our baby's money to do good, and I can't think of anybody else who touched my life the way your daddy did or anybody who uses all their resources and damn near every ounce of themselves to save people who may never even know they were saved in the first place. It's a hell of a lot more thankless than being a doctor.

Don't be a stranger. If you boys pass through the state on your travels, stop in and stay. We'll set you up as long as you want. If we ever have anything else hinky happen around these parts, I'll be calling you.

Thanks again for everything, Randy and Linda Tulley.”

“Huh,” Dean grunts. He looks over at Charlie, sees her surreptitiously wipe a tear from her eye.

Sam shoves his hand into the envelope, looking at Dean. “I didn't realize Dad called Tulley every now and then, did you?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, but I did know Elaina died. Dad told me about it,” Dean says as Sam pulls the checkbook out.

“Oh, my god,” Sam breathes, turning white and holding himself up with a hand on the table.

“Care to share, Sammy?” Dean says.

“I, we can't, I d-don't,” Sam stutters, then shoves the checkbook into Dean's hands.

“Holy shit,” Dean whispers. He runs his hand over his face, scrubbing his eyes a bit, then looks at the number again. He looks up at Sam, at Charlie, then back to Sam. “You read the letter. You know him. You saw how he acted before he left. I... We have to take it. I can't believe this, but we can't tell him no.”

“The suspense is killing me here,” Charlie says, snatching the checkbook from Dean's hand.

“Holy shit,” Charlie gasps, then continues in a stunned monotone, “Six hundred and fifty-two thousand, five hundred and twelve dollars and forty-nine cents.”

“Dee,” Sam says, his mouth working like he wants to say something, anything, but he can't find the words.

Charlie starts laughing hysterically, and both Dean and Sam turn to look at her. She holds up the IDs with their faces smiling back at them.

“Stu Cook and Doug Clifford just got a shitload of money,” she says, barely controlling her laughter.

Dean snorts, then starts chuckling. “Tulley's a CCR fan.”

Sam's lips twitch into a grin. “I suppose John and Tom Fogerty would've been too obvious, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dean says, still too stunned to say much of anything.

“Can we do this?” Sam asks, sounding conflicted.

Charlie sets the IDs down on the table. “They've already changed the names on the account,” Charlie says. “Mr. and Mrs. Tulley can't get to this money anymore even if they wanted to. That seems like a pretty strong indicator that they want you to have it.”

“Well, I guess we don't have to worry about money for a while,” Dean says, a smile spreading across his lips.

Sam huffs. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” Dean says. Then he chuckles and points at Sam. “You've been doing the sad puppy face too many times over the years. It caught up with you. Is Sammy a good boy?” he asks in a ridiculous voice people use for their dogs.

Charlie snorts as Sam looks to where Dean is pointing and sees his own tail is wagging happily. “It's actually kind of twitching,” she says. “That's how cats show they're perturbed over something.”

“Actually,” Dean says, pausing for emphasis, “rats move their tails like that they're checking out something new.”

“Very funny,” Sam says, rolling his eyes.

Charlie giggles. “I'm so gonna start calling you Remy!”

Dean chuckles as he stands, his legs still a little shaky from what the imp toxin did to his muscles. He claps Sam's shoulder in mock concern. “Consider it a compliment that, while I hate most rats, I don't mind if you hang around, Sammy.”

\- - -

Two weeks later they've settled into a routine of sorts. Sam has become quite the homemaker, still trying out new recipes while Charlie has been working on coding a new program, and Dean has been doing a spring cleaning of the bunker.

Dean's spent the last twenty-five minutes in the shower, enjoying the hot water after a day of dusting and mopping, and he still isn't done. He's in his pajama pants and a ratty old dark blue T-shirt, wishing he had socks on since his feet are a little cold as he walks from the kitchen to his room. He's taking gourmet sandwiches upstairs that Sam had worked on for a while.

Sam suggested Dean take the sandwiches to his room since he and Charlie had worked hard all day, and Dean was more than happy to do that.

Dean nearly drops the plates when he opens his door to see Charlie leaning against the bed in nothing but her strap-on and a black lacy bra. He regains his composure somewhat and manages to get the door closed, sets the plates on the dresser, and then turns to drool over Charlie.

“I wanna fuck you in your skirt,” Charlie says as she runs her hand over the dildo attached to her strap-on. “Please let me fuck your ass in your pretty new skirt,” she says, her voice getting deeper with arousal.

Dean's busy watching her fondle the dildo, which is new to them. It's dark gray, straight, and is more like a cock than the other two dildos they have for the strap-on. This one has a head like a normal cock, but then two more ridges that look like the ridge around the head of a cock. There are also vertical rows of ridges starting at the frenulum and going to the base of the dildo.

He shakes himself out of the staring contest with the dildo to look at Charlie. “Uhm, oh, yeah!” he says as he gets a mental picture of himself being fucked in the skirt and decides he really likes the idea. “Hell, yeah!”

Dean nearly rips the sleep pants off, pulls the shirt off, tossing both pieces of clothing into the corner of the room the moment he has them off.

“Do you want me to wear panties?” he asks as he gets the skirt out of his dresser drawer, his cock already half hard.

“No, just the skirt,” Charlie says, and Dean can only describe Charlie's voice as sultry.

He had been so excited over getting into the skirt, he hadn't thought to give Charlie a little strip tease, so he makes a mental note to do that next time. He steps into the skirt, pulls it up his hips, then zips and fastens it, closing the drawer quickly.

“Do you want me to wear a top or just the skirt?” he asks, looking at her over his shoulder, his hand still on the handle of the drawer.

“Just the skirt,” Charlie repeats. “I want you to put your hands on the desk, stick your ass out toward me, and spread your legs.

Dean nearly trips over himself obeying her. She makes him feel so sexy, so comfortable. He arches his back some, pushes his ass out, and spreads his legs to about shoulder width.

“Mmm, yeah, like that,” Charlie moans.

Dean knows that moan. It's the one that means she's enjoyed something enough that her clit has twitched. It thrills him to know that the sight of him like this is what did it for her.

She doesn't have shoes on, but he hears her come up behind him, her feet making soft sounds on the floor. He shivers when she runs a finger down his back, then up to his left shoulder.

“You look so pretty in this skirt, Dee,” Charlie says, affection heavy in her tone of voice. Her hand smooths over his left side, down the side of his skirt, then tickles his left upper thigh. “Oh, fuck, yes! When did you shave?” Charlie asks, her voice so thick with arousal suddenly that Dean goes from hard to painfully hard.

“I did it just now in the shower,” Dean says, a little smirk on his face. He knew it would surprise her, but he didn't know how excited over it she'd be.

“Your legs are so soft,” she says, and from where her voice is coming from, he can tell she's crouching behind him. She runs her fingers over his calves and thighs.

“Mmm,” Dean moans, and suddenly all his nervousness about having shaved his legs in the first place dies away.

Dean hisses as Charlie licks the back of his right thigh, working her way up to his right ass cheek, giving him a quick bite, then kissing the skin she bit.

“Beautiful,” she breathes out over his skin. “Such a beautiful girl.”

Dean shivers, feeling more exposed in just the skirt than if he'd been naked. The material is skating across his ass cheeks, his dick, and his thighs, and he feels like he's being objectified in a good way because Charlie's so focused on him.

Charlie stands back up, and he hears her walk somewhere over to his right. He hears her moving the mirror, and when he looks, he feels a pulse of arousal run through him. She's turning the mirror and setting it up against the wall so that they can watch everything.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes. He looks at himself in the mirror. He likes the way the skirt falls over his ass, brushes against his upper thighs. He can't wait to see the two of them fucking in the mirror.

Charlie finishes moving the mirror and grins at him. “Thought you might like that,” she says, then stalks back over to him.

She snatches the bottle of lube from the top of the dresser. Dean had been so carefully attentive to what Charlie was doing that he hadn't noticed the bottle until she grabbed it.

He hears Charlie walk behind him, but when he turns to look at them in the mirror, she's standing a few feet behind him, looking him over head to toe. Dean pushes his ass out a little more, knowing that she's watching, and he grins when he sees her bite her lip as her eyes focus on his ass.

Dean watches her step forward, then use her index finger to catch just the edge of his skirt and raise it. She's still standing back a bit, and it looks so hot to see her peeking under his skirt that he has to push down on his erection to back his arousal off some.

“Perfect ass,” Charlie says, almost like she's just making a comment to herself.

Dean watches as she flips the rest of the skirt up over his lower back, then she pours some lube onto her fingers. He moans loudly when she shoves two fingers into him. It's a burning stretch, but she would never hurt him. And Dean gets a kick out of imagining that Charlie's so ready to fuck him that she can't go slowly.

He gasps when she pushes a third finger in. She hasn't been stretching him more than a few seconds, so three fingers is burning enough to make his thighs quiver. Dean likes sex, rough or otherwise, and so he just arches his back more to make a better target for Charlie.

“Good girl,” Charlie whispers.

She finds his prostate and pushes down hard with a stroke over it. Dean yelps so loudly that he sees Charlie's eyes widen and she pauses.

“I'm okay,” Dean says. “Felt really good,” he says with a chuckle.

Charlie smiles at him in the mirror. “Awesome,” she says, giving him two more rough strokes over his prostate before she pulls her fingers out. “Ready?”

Dean nods. “Fuck me,” he says, widening his stance a little more. He then lets out another yelp as Charlie smacks his right ass cheek.

“That wasn't very polite or lady-like,” Charlie scolds.

“Sorry, ma'am,” Dean says, a smirk on his face. “Please fuck me,” he moans out in a tone of voice he knows gets to her, turns her on quickly.

It has the desired effect. Her eyes close for a moment, and Dean knows if he was close enough to touch, he'd feel a little tremor run through her body.

“Much better,” Charlie says.

Dean hisses as Charlie starts to push into him. She's not being rough, but she's pushing in steadily, not thrusting in and out to give him a chance to adjust. He breathes through it, enjoying the burn, trying to relax his asshole to let her in.

“I think I like this easy access thing,” Charlie says as she starts fucking in and out of him, ruffling Dean's skirt, then reaching under the front to play with his balls.

Dean huffs. “I'm seeing the appeal,” he says, watching them in the mirror.

He can't decide whether he wants to watch Charlie's face, the dildo fucking him, or Charlie's hand disappearing under his skirt to gently tug and roll his balls. He keeps lingering on her face, though, because he loves watching her really enjoying herself.

Her cheeks are flushed, her hair is gently swaying with each movement, her tits are bouncing just a little each time she bottoms out in Dean's ass. She's beautiful, and he can't believe she's his. That she looks the way she does right now, glowing with lust and arousal, because of him.

“I'm not tall enough to hit your prostate,” Charlie says, looking down at his ass and frowning. “Spread your legs some more for me.”

Dean spreads his legs wide, and Charlie makes a happy little moan of appreciation. She swivels her hips around a few times, getting up on her toes and back down again trying to get the right spot. He gasps when she hits his prostate.

“There's the spot I was looking for,” Charlie coos, her right hand moving to his cock.

There's no lube on her hand, so it's more of a tugging sensation than anything else, but he doesn't care, and when she runs her thumb over the tip of his dick, he hisses through his clenched teeth.

Charlie chuckles deeply, her voice sounding wrecked. “We're going to have to clean this skirt if you get it all messy,” she sing-songs.

“Please,” Dean begs. “Faster, please!” he whines as he tries to thrust back at Charlie.

“Mmm, you're close already, aren't you,” she says, fully aware she's driving him crazy with the slow thrusting.

She speeds up and Dean lets out a sob of relief. “Yeah, that,” he says, meeting her thrusts.

Charlie leans over and kisses his spine between his shoulder blades, her left hand reaching around to tweak his nipple. The things she does to him, how high she gets him is almost scary to him.

Sure, he's been with a lot of women, but he's never had anyone play him like an accomplished musician plays an instrument before. She gets him inside and out, and considering they haven't known each other a relatively long time, it's enough to convince him that maybe some of what he thought of romance when he was a kid is true.

There are no fairy tales. Nothing's ever perfect. There's always going to be problems. But what they have so far, so early in the game? It's magical.

“I want to hear you come,” Charlie says, thrusting faster, punching a grunt out of Dean when she hits his prostate on an in-stroke. “I want to hear you fall apart while I'm fucking you,” she growls, and the grip and stroking on his dick is just to the right side of awesome. “I want you to get this skirt so messy that we'll have no choice but to wash it.”

Dean moans long and hard, his legs trembling from the position he's in and the fucking he's getting. His nails are digging into the wood of his dresser, his teeth are clenched, and he's panting.

“Or maybe I'll make you wear it like that,” Charlie says with a very evil tone to her voice. “Yeah. That's what I'll do. I'll make you wear your messy skirt with nothing on under it so I can take a peek any time I want.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dean growls.

“I'll make you do the dishes in nothing but the skirt,” Charlie whispers and Dean whimpers. “I'll stand back and watch as you wash each and every single piece of dinnerware while I cop a feel any time I want, and I'll lift your pretty little skirt as I walk by so I can pinch that beautiful ass, making you squirm and squeak.”

Dean's eyes are closed. He's not bothering to look in the mirror anymore. He's drowning in her words, the visual she's giving him. Her hips are smacking into his ass, the dildo is making an obscene noise as it fucks in and out of him, and Dean's whimpering is turning into a keening sound.

“You'll be working so hard for me,” Charlie continues, twisting her hips to catch his prostate every once in a while. “And if you miss a spot, I'll use a spatula to smack that little ass of yours.”

Dean makes a moaning noise he swears he's never made before. It's so wanton, so fucking aroused that he's amazed it came from him.

“Then I'll slither around down by your legs,” she says, scratching her nails down his spine, not hard enough to break the skin, but it's enough to make him squirm. “Then I'll suck you off while you finish washing the dishes, my legs spread wide and my fingers in my pussy as you try not to break all the dishes you're washing.”

Dean's whole body tenses. Her comment about her fingers in her pussy pushed him close enough to the edge that the next hit on his prostate he's coming so hard he yells. “Charlie! Fuck, oh, fuck, Charlie!” he yells as he comes, and he feels her fingers holding his dick under the skirt, making sure he's coming all over the underside of the skirt.

She fucks him hard through his orgasm, his legs shaking so hard he grabs onto the dresser tighter so he doesn't fall. A noise like a sob comes out of him as he comes down, his body oversensitized and floating on a haze of awesome feelings.

Charlie kisses him on his back again, then uses her left hand to hold onto his hip. “My turn,” she says, and now that he's looking in the mirror again, he sees a big grin on her face.

Dean hisses as she starts fucking him harder. He's thankful she's not doing anything to his dick other than holding it. They've played with that a few times, but they've never done it while he's standing, and he doesn't know if he'd be able to keep himself upright if she stroked him while he's so sensitive.

He watches her in the mirror, looking at the way her legs are moving, the muscles in her thighs and calves, the side of her right ass cheek. “You're so fucking sexy,” he tells her.

He makes eye contact with her in the mirror, sees that she's glistening a little with sweat. She's so damned beautiful that he could never find the right way to tell her exactly how he feels.

“So beautiful,” he groans. “Love watching your ass and thigh while you fuck me. Wanna bite that ass,” he says with a grin.

“Mmm, I'll take you up on that later,” she says with a wink, her voice sounding even more wrecked than it had a few minutes ago.

“I wanna lick you clean,” Dean says, watching the dildo fucking him again, thinking about how the other end of that is fucking her pussy. “I wanna spread you wide and make you come again after you're done fucking me. I wanna shove my tongue as far inside as I can, and then I wanna suck on your clit until you come all over my face.”

“Fuck, Dee! Yeah!” Charlie yelps as she starts coming.

She's fucking him so hard that it's a little painful, but it's totally worth it to watch her fall apart, her rhythm slipping, her eyes falling closed, her mouth open as she pants and moans her way through her orgasm.

Before she's even done coming, he pulls off of her dildo, turns, picks her up, and tosses her on the bed. Her eyes are wide, but she's got a grin on her face. Dean shoves her legs apart, then undoes the buckles of her strap-on.

He gently pulls the dildo out of her, drops it onto the floor next to the bed. She's still panting, her thighs shaking. He gets down onto his knees next to the bed, then pulls her closer, her ass hanging halfway off the edge of the bed.

She yelps as he shoves his tongue into her pussy. “Oh, Dee, yeah, that tongue, yeah, it's, fuck!” Charlie groans as she pushes her pussy into his face, trying to get more.

Dean moans into her, then he can't help but smile a little as he feels her shiver underneath him. She's making little 'oh, oh' sounds that are giving him a semi again already.

He's learned the combinations she likes, how hard she likes certain things, how soft she likes others, and he keeps her off balance a bit as he flicks her clit too softly to make her come, shoves the flat of his tongue over her clit hard enough to back her off of the edge, then goes right back to flicking her clit just the way she likes. He wants to make her beg. And by the way her thighs are trembling, she's about to break and beg to come.

A staccato keening sound comes from what sounds like her open mouth, and Dean gives himself a pat on the back for getting her to the point where he knows she's wasted enough on arousal to have her eyes closed, her arms thrown out to the sides, and her mouth agape.

He doesn't even need to see her to know she's got her head tilted back, arching her neck and back, her stomach and chest heaving, and cute little frown lines appearing on her forehead because what she really wants to do is demand he get her off, but she's not quite frustrated enough to voice her demand.

“Dee, please!” Charlie finally breaks. “Please! I wanna come! Please make me come! Please! Oh!” she begs in a voice that's flipping back and forth between growly and breathy, her voice cracking on a few of the words.

Dean shoves his tongue into her hole, ignoring her clit for the moment, knowing it'll make her even more demanding at this point. He wiggles his tongue, then fucks it in and out at a pace that's not too fast, not too slow.

Her legs fall even further apart, her hips tilting to give him more room even though he has plenty, and he knows she's trying to get him deeper now that his tongue is in her hole, but he's not going to use his fingers yet.

Charlie lets out a loud growl of frustration. “I know what you're doing, Dee Winchester!”

Dean is so surprised by hearing his new full name that he pauses for a moment. It's the first time anyone has said “her” full name. His eyes burn, but he goes back to pleasuring Charlie. He doesn't want her to know how much that affected him.

He decides he really likes it. He wants it. He suddenly has a strong urge to change the name on a few of his IDs to read Dee Winchester. Okay, maybe Dee Winchester on just an ID that he keeps in his dresser drawer to take out and stare at every now and then. But it feels so right, and he has a craving for hearing it again, seeing it written down like it's something permanent.

Dean flicks his tongue against her clit, and he hears Charlie's voice change from whining to encouraging.

“Yeah!” she says, then makes a happy “mmm” sound. “Right there. Fuck, yeah. I wanna come, Dee. Please make me come!”

He works on her clit, doing it just the way he knows she likes best when she's about to come. Her thighs are shaking again, and she moves her feet to his shoulders, something he really likes because he can feel her toes flexing, digging into his shoulders like she can draw him closer, get him further inside.

Her body shifts, and when he takes a peek up at her, she's gotten to her elbows so she can watch him. She's panting hard, her chest heaving, and her teeth are clenched. Her hair's all over the place from writhing on the bed, and she looks gorgeous.

Dean picks up speed, flicking her clit as fast as he can, and he feels her pussy clenching as she starts coming.

“Dee!” Charlie growls, and he watches her as she tries to keep eye contact with him, the little frown lines on her forehead making an appearance again. “Fuck! Yeah! Dee!” Charlie screams as she comes.

She finally loses the battle of keeping eye contact with him as her eyes slam shut and she flops backward on the bed, her belly and hips twitching up at him.

He licks her through her orgasm, gentling as she comes down, then softly licks out her hole so he can taste more of her, but keeping it slow and soft so it doesn't stimulate her already oversensitized pussy too much.

“Wanna kiss you,” Charlie says.

Dean looks up to see her hands are outstretched, her fingers doing grabby hands, and he chuckles as he stands up. She scoots back on the bed to give him room to get on his knees on the end of the bed. He puts his hands on the bed on either side of her chest, leans down, and shares the last lick of her pussy with her.

She loves tasting herself on him, and he gets a huge kick out of her loving tasting herself on him. She sucks on his tongue, moaning and squirming beneath him. Her tongue flits about in his mouth, running along the roof of his mouth.

He slides off to her right side, wrapping his right leg over hers, his right arm wrapping around her tummy, and he rests his head on her right arm, snuggling in.

“Somebody's hard again,” Charlie sing-songs, her voice completely wrecked.

“Mmm, yeah, because you're so fucking hot,” Dean mumbles into her neck.

He lets his right hand wander from her belly down to her pussy, and she squeaks when he gently pushes his fingers between her lips. She doesn't pull away, so he uses his middle and ring fingers to gently push into her hole, keeping away from her clit because she's still sensitive.

Dean pushes his hard cock into her hip, riding it lazily as he slowly fingerfucks her. He doesn't know if either one of them will come again. He's just content to still have the connection, to feel her body beneath his, relaxing and melting against him.

She turns her head, snuffling his hair and making him smile. He tilts his head, looks up at her, and she smiles, her beautiful green eyes so close he feels like he can fall into them. She kisses the tip of his nose, making him chuckle.

“You gonna come again?” she asks, one eyebrow raising.

“Don't care,” he mumbles, leaning in for a kiss.

They kiss for what seems like forever. It's not hungry, not rough. It's just a lazy and casual kiss that's more comforting and connecting than arousing.

“Mmm,” Charlie moans into his mouth as he fingerfucks her a little faster.

He enjoys hearing her react to him, so he uses his thumb to ease her clit into being stimulated again. She tries to spread her legs for him, but since his leg is flung over her right leg, she plants her left foot on the bed and lets her leg fall open.

Dean pushes a little harder into her hip, his cock letting out a little precome, but not much since he's already come once. He likes the feeling of the head of his dick catching on her skin, and when she reaches down with her left hand to play with the head of his cock, he moans into her mouth.

She can't reach his whole cock because of the position they're in, but she massages the head with her hand and fingers, and it feels great as he continues thrusting a little.

They don't say anything, their lips still engaged in kissing. The kiss becomes more intense as the two of them get more and more aroused. Charlie's not moving her body much, just lying back and enjoying the fingerfucking, her left hand working Dean's cock head.

Dean starts fucking into her side harder, his thumb rubbing her clit in a circular motion, his own hips thrusting harder. Charlie changes her hand position enough to jerk off the very end of his cock, and between the dragging sensation he's getting from rubbing against her body and the stimulation at the end of his dick, he's coming, thrusting into her and, against her body, shaking and moaning as Charlie's hand gets so messy with jizz that he can feel the slick as he fucks up into her hand.

By the time his hips slow down, he feels Charlie's hips pushing down on his hand. He moves his hand a little faster, still kissing her, though his own hips have slowed to a very gentle swaying.

She comes with a keening noise, her hips stuttering, her body making a lazy rolling wave motion more than jerking, and her hand squeezing the tip of his dick just enough to make him yelp into her mouth.

Charlie breaks the kiss, and he smirks when he sees she's got a very satisfied smile on her lips. He pulls his fingers out of her, then pushes them into his mouth, making sure she's watching.

“Mmm, I love when you do that,” she moans.

He makes a bit of a show out of it for her, groaning around his fingers, sucking on them. When he's licked them clean, he pulls his fingers out and wraps his arm around her again. He snuggles into her neck and breathes in her scent, feels the warmth of her body seeping into his as their bodies relax into happy, sated puddles.

They lie there for a while, not saying anything, and Dean's eyes close. He's just about to fall asleep when he hears Charlie.

“Dee?” she says softly.

“Yeah, baby?” he replies, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I love you,” she says, and it's not said softly like his name, but rather it's with confidence and conviction.

Dean moans as he lifts his head, looking down at her and smiling. He kisses her gently, letting her know how he feels through the passion in the kiss. She's his, and this confirms it more than ever. He feels his chest swell with emotion and excitement and another empty space filling inside him that he didn't even know existed. He wasn't waiting for her to say she loved him, but now that she's said it, he wonders how he lived without it before.

“I love you,” he says when he pulls away, looking her in the eye, and hoping she knows he's saying it because he means it, not just as a response to her declaration.

She smiles up at him, looking so happy, as if she knows he really means it, that he just has to kiss her again. She pulls away, then grabs the throw blanket that had been tossed to the side while he ate her out. She tries to get it up and over their bodies, but Dean sees her flailing a bit, so he helps, and they get it spread out over the two of them.

They settle, comfortable wrapped up in each other, their heads both falling back down, and Dean nuzzling into her neck again.

He smiles. “I think I love you more, though,” he says, then kisses her neck.

Charlie giggles. “Hmm, I don't think that's possible, because I really think I love you more.”

“We'll have to fight about it in the morning,” Dean mumbles.

“Ooh,” Charlie coos. “Our first fight. Can we have make-up sex?” she asks, her voice low and sounding like she's already half asleep.

“Totally,” Dean mumbles, nearly asleep himself.

\- - -

It's a week later, and Sam and Dean have had a long discussion without Charlie there, talking about the pros and cons of including Charlie in the names on the bank accounts.

Dean's somewhat leery of it, and Sam is to some degree as well. But in the end Sam makes the argument that if Charlie really wanted to take the money and run, she could probably do it whether her name was on the account or not because of her computer skills, and Dean makes the argument that even if she were to go ahead and split with the money, they'd been fine all their lives without Tulley's money and they'd be okay if it was gone again.

It's worth it to Sam and Dean also in the sense that if something happens to one or more of them, any surviving members of their trio would be able to get at the money.

Dean and Sam don't think Charlie would cut and run, but because of their lives, and Dean's “abandonment issues,” as Sam calls them, it's necessary to talk about the money situation.

They find her in the library, and Dean sets the bag of cash on the library table, Sam spreading their various ID cards and paperwork out next to the bag of cash.

“I don't know about this,” Charlie says after they explain everything to her, and her eyes widen as she looks between Sam and Dean.

She stands up from her favorite overstuffed chair, leaving her laptop behind, and she walks over to the library table, glancing over the IDs.

“This is a huge responsibility,” she says, her arms going out to the side to demonstrate how ginormous the responsibility is. “Why would you trust me not to skip out with all your money?” she asks, a grimace on her face.

Dean walks over to her, wraps his arms around her, and kisses her temple. “We'd rather take the risk than not. If something ever happens to one or both of us, we'd want you to have the money anyway,” he says, feeling her tense in his arms when he mentions the possibility of something happening to them.

“If you really don't want this to happen,” Sam says with his mediator-slash-laywer face on, as Dean likes to call it, “we won't do this, but we've talked about it,” nodding toward Dean. “We'd like to do this for a lot of reasons, and if you ever change your mind, we can make changes. If you ever decide living with Dee or the both of us is not for you, we'll work it out if it happens.”

Dean pulls out of his hug enough to look down at Charlie, still keeping his left arm around her. “I'd rather that not happen because I really like having you around,” he says, and his chest swells with affection when he sees a blush wash over her cheeks and a little smile twitching onto her lips, “but it's always a possibility, and neither of us want you to feel like you're chained to us. I mean it,” Dean says, looking her in the eye to make sure she really gets this.

She's quiet for a moment, and Dean gives her time to digest the information. Then a big grin spreads across her lips. “You really trust me this much? You want me here this much?” she asks, her voice so hopeful, so full of wonder that it tugs at Dean's heart.

“Yeah,” Dean says, smiling down at her, “I do.”

Sam clears his throat to get their attention. “And I do too,” he says with a smirk.

Charlie giggles, and the look she gives Sam melts Dean's heart. The three of them are becoming a little family here in the bunker, and Dean's thrilled about it.

So all three of them go into three separate big-name banks, spreading Tulley's money between the three banks. All of them are signers on each of the accounts, yet any one of them can walk into any of the banks and withdraw every bit of the money.

They had decided to dress up fairly nicely so that they would look presentable in the banks. Charlie had worn a sundress with a fitted top and broomstick bottom in dark green with deep purple abstract flowers.

Dean and Sam had worn their best jeans, which in both cases were black and had no holes, and instead of shirts and flannels, they wore button down dress shirts from their suits, Dean's being dark maroon and Sam's chocolate brown with little flecks of black throughout the shirt.

As they walk out of the last bank, Sam hands Dean and Charlie each two hundred dollars, then holds up another two hundred dollars, waving it in their faces.

Sam's grin is infectious. “I say we celebrate by going to a restaurant where the napkins are cloth instead of paper and there are real tablecloths instead of red-and-white-checked plastic.”

Dean pats his stomach. “I could go for a steak,” he says.

Charlie smacks Dean's arm. “Sam said real napkins, so that means you can have a steak, but you also get it topped with sauteed onions and mushrooms and it's drizzled with a sauce that has so many calories that they'll refuse to tell you the caloric count!”

“See!” Sam says, smacking Dean's arm in the same spot Charlie had. “She knows how to do celebrating with a nice restaurant,” he says with a mock scowl.

Dean knows this about Charlie, and he loves it about her. He's wanted to take her out to a nice restaurant, knowing she'd appreciate it, and even though this isn't a date between the two of them, Dean's happy to be celebrating with her and Sam.

“We already got all gussied up to look credible at the banks,” Dean says, gesturing toward each of them, and Charlie strikes a pose, showing off her black-strapped wedge shoes. “Why not?” he says, heading off toward the car.


	7. Part 6

Part 6

They had seen Castiel a few times since he'd gotten his grace back, but he hadn't spent much time at the bunker. So when Sam asks Dean to come meet with he and Cas in the library, Dean's happy to see Cas, smiling at him as he walks in.

Cas is sitting in a chair at the library table, relaxed in a way that he never would've been before he'd spent a good amount of time as a human, but there's still something not quite human about him.

Charlie is sitting in her overstuffed chair, and Dean gives her a little wave as he walks in. She has a funny look on her face, and Dean figures Cas has come with news of a hunt they all need to look into. Charlie is new to hunting, and though she's excited and wants to learn, it's an unknown for her.

Sam takes a seat next to Charlie on a library chair he's pulled over there, so Dean settles in the chair on the other side of Charlie that Dean has made his own over the last few weeks.

He likes sitting by Charlie when they're in the library, so he found himself something more like a chaise lounge that's overstuffed like Charlie's chair, but it's long enough to stretch out on, long enough that he can nap on it if he feels like staying with Charlie when he's too tired to keep his eyes open.

Dean looks at each of them in turn, and they're all looking at him. He feels a little put on the spot and slightly anxious. They don't look mad, they don't look upset, but he can't quite put his finger on the mood in the room.

“What's up?” he asks, making eye contact with each of them in turn.

Sam clears his throat. “Well, I asked Cas about my tail,” he says, flicking his tail in the air above his head. “Cas said he can reverse it and take care of the bookmark that gave it to me in the first place.”

“Cool,” Dean says with a smile. “You're gonna miss it, aren't you,” he says with a bit of a chuckle.

Sam huffs. “Yeah, I am,” he says, then looks down at his hands, and Dean notices Sam's playing with his own jeans.

Okay, Dean knows Sam. Sam's definitely nervous, and he's stalling because he doesn't know what to say. Dean needs to help him out. “Spit it out, dude,” Dean says, glancing at Cas and wondering why Cas is being so quiet.

Sam looks up at him. “Cas said that's not the only thing he can change,” he says vaguely, his hands doing a flapping thing that Dean would normally tease him about.

“Okay,” Dean drawls, his eyebrow raising.

Castiel sits up straighter. “Sam is worried you'll be mad at him for speaking with me about a personal matter.”

Dean is confused, and Sam looks like he's close to having a stroke or something. Cas' mouth opens again, but Sam coughs, distracting Cas enough that Sam can throw him a 'zip it' signal, and Cas closes his mouth, relaxing in his seat again.

“Sammy?” Dean asks, putting enough big-brother emphasis behind the word that he knows it'll make Sam squirm and hopefully tell Dean what's on his mind.

“He knows everything about you,” Sam blurts out, his cheeks getting pink, “so I assumed he knew about the whole male versus female thing,” he says, then winces, most likely at his choice of words.

“Okay,” Dean says.

Of course he knew Cas would know. He doubts Cas even blinked when Sam brought it up. Dean knows Cas has intimate knowledge of everything about him. But Dean's acceptance of what Sam has said and the fact that he's still sitting there calmly seems to help Sam, because Sam's shoulders drop a little.

Sam's mouth hangs open for a moment, then he shakes his head some, like he's telling himself to knock it off and get it out. “Cas says he can change you, if you want,” Sam says. “He can change your body to female,” he adds quickly, then looks to Dean as if Dean's going to pass out or yell at him.

Dean feels a flush of a million emotions running through his body at once. “Uhm,” he says, his head tilting as it sinks in.

He looks at each of them again, and he knows now why they're acting the way they are. They don't want to hurt him, and they know this could all blow up in their faces, but he knows they all care about him. A lot. They're scared, and Dean wants to reassure them it's okay, but he can't find the words.

Cas looks confident, like he knows he can do this for Dean. There's not doubt on his face, and Dean feels a mix of excitement and apprehension fighting for dominance in his body over the fear that wants to flare.

His eyes are burning, his throat feels like someone has wrapped their hands around it and squeezed, and his lips feel numb. He feels like he's flailing, nothing to ground him.

Cas is serious. Dean could have this. What he's always wanted is as close as a 'yes' from Dean's mouth. He doesn't even know how Cas would do it, what it entails, but he knows it wouldn't be anything like a gender-reassignment surgery. Cas was an angel, damn it. And he's got his grace back.

“I, uhm,” Dean says stupidly, then chuckles nervously at himself. He runs his hands over his face, then rubs the back of his neck.

He nearly jumps out his skin when he feels Charlie's hand gently rest on his left knee. He looks at her, probably with a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face.

“Ask him why he remade you as a male,” she whispers, low enough that Sam probably couldn't hear her, but Cas can.

Dean grimaces, shaking his head. “I can't,” he whispers back. There's pain building in his chest. He doesn't want to hear the truth, and he wants to get back to thinking about the possibility of what Cas is offering.

Castiel leans forward, and in a very human way, leans his elbows on his knees. “I was simply reforming your body, Dee,” Cas says.

Dean gasps at that name coming from Castiel's lips. His eyes burn with more fierceness, and he feels them well up with tears. It's a lot to take in, and if Cas is already calling him Dee, that means Cas has accepted it. Cas has been told what's going on with him, and he's not condemning him, and instead he's following Dean's wishes. The name sounding natural from his lips.

Dean wipes at his face, aggressively trying to get the tears to go away. His hands are shaking. Damn it, he's been trained his whole life to keep a steady hand, and his hands are shaking. He shoves them between his knees.

“I didn't feel it was my place to form a new body for you,” Castiel continues, and Dean looks up at him. “Now that I've been around humans instead of simply observing, I'd do things differently. If I would've known what I know now, I would've formed a female body for you.”

Dean's chest is so tight he's scared he won't be able to breathe. Or worse yet, he'll start bawling right here in front of everyone.

“Angels don't see things the way humans do,” Cas says, his voice softening in a way that Dean hadn't expected. “After everything I saw of you, inside and out, I did what I was sent to do and reformed your physical body. Had an older, more experienced angel, archangel, or even God been the one to do it, they would've made you a female body.”

Dean feels the air being punched out of him, and he's embarrassed that it comes out with a noise that sounds like a sob. A few tears are running down his face, his teeth are clenched.

He wants to keep himself under control, but the thought of Cas having only been doing what he thought he should do, that a more knowledgeable angel or even God himself would have just gone ahead and given him a female body, well, it's blowing his mind.

He feels like he's gasping and can't get enough air, but he must not look too horrible because Sam and Charlie are letting him have his space beside Charlie's hand on his knee, and he uses the touch to ground himself, finally able to get a full breath in and out, make the burning in his eyes back off a little.

“There's nothing wrong with you, Dee,” Cas says.

Dean sees a small smile on Cas' face even though his vision is blurred from the watery eyes. He wipes at his eyes again, wishing he could stop the tears, the tightness in his chest. But at the same time, there's a weight lifting that makes him feel like laughing, shouting out his relief.

“God would never force a human to be something they're not,” Cas says. “Humans are his creation, and he gave you all free will because he doesn't want robots, doesn't want perfection. Humans have pushed ideas on each other about what should and shouldn't be, but I fought through Hell for you, and I fell from Heaven for you. I wouldn't have done that if you were some sort of unworthy abomination.”

That does it. He had hated his own body for so long, hated what it had meant that he'd been recreated as a male, and it had been something he'd had weighing on him for so long that when Castiel said those last words, the weight that lifted, the walls he'd carefully constructed that cracked a bit without falling felt like his world was changing.

Dean's lip wobbled, and a few more tears fell. He wiped them away with the back of his right hand, his left hand finding Charlie's and holding on.

He let out a chuckle that sounded more like a sob, then wondered if his face was a complete mess of tears and blotchy cheeks. And he really hoped he didn't have snot all over his face.

“I want to offer you a change,” Cas says. “There's no time limit on it. You can think about it for a while or you can say yes and I'll do it right now.”

Dean feels Charlie squeeze his hand, and he turns to her, giving her a wobbly smile. He sees so much love in her eyes, so much happiness that it lightens his own overwhelming feelings some.

“It's up to you, baby,” Charlie says softly. “No judgment or influence one way or the other from any of us. It's completely your decision, and all of us will respect whatever that decision is.”

He looks around at the rest of them, and he feels so loved, feels accepted in a way that he's never felt before. He really believes none of them would have a problem with whatever he decides, and the fact that Cas said there's no time limit on his decision makes things easier.

It's right there. It's right in front of him. He's dreamed of it since he can remember having daydreams. That whenever anyone would look at him, they'd see a woman. There would be no awkwardness. He could dress how he's always wanted to, he could act like he's always wanted to, and the general public would have no clue he'd ever been a male.

He lets himself picture it, which he hasn't done in years, hasn't done since shortly after Hell. Relief floods through him. The fear is melting away. He knows it would be a huge change, that it would take getting used to, but it's what he's always wanted.

“Sam mentioned that you were leery of medical procedures for sexual reassignment,” Cas says, sitting back in his chair. “I can assure you that I will manipulate your body down to your very last cell, and you will be remade into a female. It'll be slightly uncomfortable, but not painful, by any means, and it won't last more than an hour.

“It won't be a simple re-sculpting of your current appearance, but a re-forming at a cellular level that will make it impossible to ever be able to tell you weren't born female. You'll still be you, still have the same brain, still have everything that makes you 'you' on the inside.”

Dean wipes at his eyes again, his hands still shaky. “I want this,” he whispers. “I want this really fucking badly, but I'm kind of overwhelmed here,” he says with a huff as he looks down at his hand, fingers wrapped around Charlie's smaller hand.

“You don't have to decide right now,” Sam says. “If you want to think about it, Cas has no problem giving you time.”

Dean chuckles. “I am so never going to be able to top you in the gift-giving department,” he says to Sam, a big smile on his face.

Sam barks out a laugh. “You can try, but I'd rather just get a shit-load of little brother points. You know, those ones that let me get out of trouble and let me do and say stupid shit,” Sam says with a grin.

“I suppose I can do that,” Dean says with a nod.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, wipes his eyes again. Something is settling inside him. There's a feeling of rightness that is coming over him. He knows this isn't a fantasy, knows that there are ups and downs, the grass is always greener on the other side, but he's never felt right in his own body. He's never been what society thought he should be unless he put up walls, acted the part.

He's tired of some of those walls. He's tired of feeling as if he's lying to everyone he's ever met. He's tired of fighting something he doesn't think he should've ever had to fight in the first place.

He couldn't even begin to count the number of times he's looked in the mirror and been nearly surprised by who was looking back at him.

When he was a kid, he'd thought everyone did that, but after asking Sam vaguely about it when they were teenagers, and after asking a few women he'd been with over the years, he knows that's not how everyone else is. And now he has the chance to be able to look in the mirror and see the person he was meant to be.

Dean hasn't asked for much in life, hasn't been handed much, but this is truly a gift, and he's determined to grab onto it with both hands and never let go.

He turns to Cas, and Cas sits up straighter, obviously realizing Dean's ready to give his answer. “I want this,” Dean says with confidence.

Castiel smiles at him, a full on smile that shows his teeth and brightens his entire face. “Let's do it,” he says.

Dean chuckles, a flush of anticipating running through him. “Uhm, do I need to do anything?”

Charlie lets out a little squeal of excitement, and he sees her bouncing in her chair out of the corner of his eye. He knows she's trying to contain herself or she'd be on her feet bouncing.

Sam stands up so suddenly that his chair falls over backward. “Towels!” he blurts, his arms out at his sides. “And pillows! And, uh, water,” Sam says, obviously fishing for more items they'll need.

Charlie snorts. “Dee's not birthing a baby.”

Dean chuckles at the panicked look on Sam's face. Sam turns to Cas, his eyes wide and his arms still out at his sides, ready for anything.

“What do we need?” Sam asks desperately.

Cas grins at him. “Nothing,” he says as he kicks off his shoes and walks over to Dean, sitting down on the chaise at Dean's right side. “Unless you'd like privacy, we can do this right here,” Cas says to Dean.

“I don't need to do anything?” Dean asks, looking at Cas like he has all the answers to everything ever.

Cas shakes his head. “It will take a while, but if you're comfortable here and you want Sam and Charlie here, you just need to relax and let me touch you.”

“You gonna feel me up, Cas?” Dean asks with a sly grin.

Cas looks him in the eye. “I'll be using my grace, and I'll be touching every part of you inside and out, which is why I asked if you wanted privacy.”

“Do I have to get naked?” he asks, glancing at Sam.

Cas shakes his head. “No, in fact since your female body will be smaller, the clothes you have on will be loose, but they will cover you.”

“Uhm, okay,” Dean says, then points at Sam. “Sit if you want to. I'll leave it up to you whether you stay or go. I'm okay with you staying, but if you're uncomfortable –,” he starts, then is cut off.

“I wanna stay,” Sam says, his voice louder than normal, and Dean knows Sam's dying to see this.

“Okay,” Dean says. “It'll probably make it easier for you guys to believe it's me if you get to see me change, huh?”

“It does sound interesting,” Sam says, “but I want to be here for you.”

Dean smiles. “Take a seat,” he says, waving toward the fallen chair.

Sam spins, picks up his chair, drags it a few feet closer to the chaise, and sits down, straddling the chair and resting his arms on the back of the chair.

“Because of the changes I'm making,” Cas says, turning to Charlie, “it would be best if you didn't touch Dee,” he says as he gestures toward her hand in Dean's.

“Oh, okay,” Charlie says, dropping his hand like it's on fire.

“Lean your head back and try to relax,” Cas says, then lifts his hands.

“Wait!” Charlie yells, her hands flying out in front of her and waving.

“What?” Dean asks, and he sees Cas has frozen in place.

Charlie clambers over the arms of her chair, getting up awkwardly and gracelessly. She leans over and takes Dean's face in her hands, pulling him to her. His eyes cross as he tries to look at her up close.

She kisses him soft and slow, enjoying the moment. Dean feels himself melt into her, and when she pulls back, she smiles, running her thumb over his spit slick lower lip.

“Next time I kiss you,” she says, looking so excited it's intoxicating, “I'll be kissing the lips you were always meant to have.”

Dean's chest feels as if it'll burst with affection and love for Charlie. He's amazed by her ability to make things seem so right, to freely give of herself, give her love. He loves this woman so much it hurts. She said just the right words to calm him, get him looking toward the future, while letting him know that she'll be here for him whatever his physical form may be.

She gets back onto her chair, turning to the side so she can see Dean, her arms hanging over the arm of the chair.

“Okay, let's do this,” Dean says, nodding at Cas, then resting his head back against the back of the chaise.

Cas raises his arms again, then rests them on Dean's stomach. “At times, my grace will get brighter, but it'll never get bright enough to hurt your eyes,” he says to them.

No one says anything, and the silence is almost hard to take. Dean watches as Cas' hands start to glow, and he feels a warmth spreading out from his stomach. Castiel was right in that he feels somewhat uncomfortable, but it's not painful.

Dean would be willing to handle pain if it meant he'd get this, but it's nice to know that he doesn't have to endure pain.

He gasps as Cas' hands go through his body, passing through everything as if his hands and wrists are a hologram, but Dean feels them inside, down to the core of his stomach and spine.

He's never felt anything like it, even in Hell. There's no pain, and the discomfort is more of an oddness, an intensity instead of a prickling or stabbing. He'd almost describe it as pressure, but it isn't that either.

The warmth has spread to his entire body, and he's completely surprised that he can actually tell what part of his body Castiel is working on not only by that odd almost-pressure intensity, but also because that part of his body glows with the light of Castiel's grace.

Dean's left thigh is the first part to glow. It doesn't visibly change all that much, and Dean figures Cas started there because it would ease Dean into it. There's an uneasy shifting feeling, but nothing nearly as horrible as a displaced or fractured bone.

The bright glow spreads, encompassing both of his legs, and the shifting feeling becomes more intense, but not so much that he needs to ask Cas to stop. His toes feel tingly, and his left foot twitches once, then settles.

A sensation like waves spreading from the inside of his bones out to the top layer of skin overcomes his legs, and the glow becomes brighter, though still not bright enough to hurt their eyes. There's a near euphoric feeling running through Dean, and he wonders if Cas is doing that to keep him from freaking out or if it's a side effect of what's happening to his body.

Dean grits his teeth as he feels the intensity starting up in his abdomen. It's still in his legs, so he hadn't expected it to jump up to his stomach, and it was merely surprise, not discomfort that makes him grit his teeth.

A pulsing sensation begins in his stomach and pelvic area, and Dean almost wishes he could pull his clothes off so he could see what's happening, to see if his dick disappears or shrinks or morphs into something else.

“Stay still,” Cas mumbles.

Dean grins. It would figure Cas is reading his mind while he's doing this. He looks up at Sam and Charlie, their eyes wide and their mouths hanging open just a little. It's adorable, and Dean wants to say something, but Cas told him to stay still, so that probably includes his mouth.

He squirms a little as the feeling of intensity and pulsing spikes up into his chest. It's such a flash of sensation, there one second and gone the next, that it's hard to stay still. He stops looking at Sam and Charlie so he can concentrate on staying still for Cas.

The spike of intensity flashes up again, and Dean realizes it's coming from his pelvis and shooting up to each nipple. He wonders what's actually happening inside his body, wonders if Cas is laying the groundwork for the changes his outer appearance will take, and if the spikes of intensity up to his nipples have to do with his reproductive system.

“Ah!” Dean yelps, more surprised than anything else when a spike goes all the way to the top of his head.

“Don't be alarmed,” Cas says softly, the words penetrating him like they're all around him and inside of him, coming from outside the room and deep inside his body at one and the same time. “Everything's going the way it should.”

Dean forces himself to relax, focuses on a book high on the shelves to his left to keep from panicking, but lets his mind partially pay attention to the changes in his body.

He'd swear his legs feel shorter, but he keeps them still, not even wriggling his toes. The glow dies down, and the warmth in his body from Cas' grace almost feels like it's searching something out, moving from limb to limb, across his chest, down one leg, then the other, and finally settling in his stomach.

He feels an odd sensation in his jaw, but does his best to stay still. It feels like he's been chewing on something gooey all day. It's a soreness that normally he'd ignore, but he knows what it means. He knows his jawline is softening, and he tries to control his breathing, keep his excitement from overwhelming him.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined something like this would happen. When he was little and daydreamed about getting sexual reassignment surgery, he knew it would be exactly that; surgery. He knew it would hurt. He knew things would never be completely 'normal' down there. And the more he learned about it, the less it sounded like a good option.

This, though, well, this was amazing. Even before he knew it would be painless, he had no doubt in his mind that Cas would do this right. He knew Dean inside and out. Who better to make Dee than Castiel?

And that's when Dean nearly passes out. It's not anything Cas is doing. Rather the rush of realizing he's finally going to be female hits the rest of the way.

He's still refused to allow himself to think of himself as a woman, even though Sam and Charlie were using feminine pronouns and the name Dee, because he wasn't really a woman. The pronoun and name usage from Sam and Charlie were a consideration, a nicety for him that he greatly appreciated, but inside his own head, the fact that he had a dick was black and white for him, and he could play, could have some of his wishes, but not the female pronoun in his own head. He'd have had to earn that, but he never knew how he could've without this.

The dizziness hits hard as all at once Dean realizes he's becoming Dee. A she. A her. A woman. She feels tears rolling down the sides of her face, but she doesn't dare try and wipe them away, doesn't dare move. She doesn't look at Charlie or Sam in case it would make her more emotional.

Dee works at breathing her way through the emotions. She feels the warm, intense spikes of Castiel's work all throughout her body. This is it. It's what she's always wanted. She has it. And she's sharing the experience with her family, the three who matter most to her in the entire world.

Her ears itch, and she can hear something changing, something shifting. Instead of being alarmed, she welcomes it. Maybe she'll have cute little petite ears now, and maybe Charlie will love sucking on the lobes.

Her nose itches, and she wonders if it'll look like her mom's nose or if the combination of her parents means she'll have a little bit larger nose.

Her eyes itch and tear up more, but she figures the tearing has more to do with her emotions than anything else. They don't itch for long, so her eyes must not change all that much.

Her throat itches, and in pulsing waves, she feels it shifting. She wonders if her voice will be high and annoying or if it'll be deep and sexy. She hopes it's somewhere in the middle, that it's pleasant, but not masculine.

Her shoulders itch, and she has the urge to shrug, but she stays still, waiting for Castiel to soften her shoulders, take away the severe edges of a male body.

When her chest itches, she smiles. She tries not to, but she can't help it. She nearly asks Castiel for big tits, but then she reminds herself that Cas will do this right.

“They'll be beautiful,” Cas mumbles, and Dee thinks possibly Cas is smiling.

The itching is intense over her nipples, spreading out over each breast like a hand cupping her, separate fingers pulsing, then fades away. She wants to look down, but instead she looks at Charlie. Her eyes are wide, her mouth still hanging open, and when she sees Dee looking at her, she closes her mouth a bit.

“Wow,” Charlie says with a leer.

Dee smiles, and when she does, her lips feel different. It thrills her to realize that something even so simple as smiling feels more right than it's ever felt.

The itching intensity moves down to her stomach, subtly passing the sternum. It doesn't stay long in her stomach, moving quickly to her pelvic area.

Dee tenses. She's excited about this, but it's scary at the same time. She suddenly worries it's going to hurt, like someone cutting their dick off. Then she remembers Castiel saying there'd be no pain and she calms herself.

The same shifting sensation radiates throughout her pelvis, her hips, and where her cock and balls might still be. She feels silly for not knowing if they're still there. She figures there won't be something like fireworks going off or fanfare as her dick goes away, but she should know, right?

And then she feels it. It's nothing like she expected. She'd still been waiting for the pain, so to have a cooling sensation contrast the warmth going through her pelvic area startles her and she flinches. It's not icy cold, but more like a cool breeze.

She can't feel anything shrinking, and it doesn't feel like suddenly things are gone, but the only thing that comes to her mind to describe it is a sandcastle deconstructed by gentle waves. It's a shifting away like the sand settling. When it's done, she definitely knows the dick and balls are gone.

Dee wants to squeal with happiness. She never has to look at her dick again. She'll never jerk off again. She never has to deal with untimely erections. She'll never need a tissue or a towel to get rid of the jizz. Any messiness that comes from now on can be cleaned by her own fingers, which will quickly be shoved in her mouth, or hopefully by Charlie.

She wants to touch. She wants to look in the mirror. She wants to try on clothes. Speaking of clothes, she has to go shopping. She needs a whole new wardrobe. Dee can't wait to take Charlie along for that.

Dee feels the warmth throughout her body fade away, the intensity having gone before the warmth, but it went so slowly she hadn't noticed it. Or maybe she was too busy planning her shopping trip, already wondering if some of her favorite panties came in her new size.

She looks down at her stomach to see Castiel pulling his hands out. She looks at him and sees that he looks exhausted, and without thinking, she sits up straight, grabbing him by the arms, not even thinking that maybe she should've stayed still longer.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and she hears Sam gasp.

“I'm fine,” Cas says with a weak smile. “It's tiring, but that's all. Some rest and I'll be back to myself again,” he reassures her.

She chuckles, then throws her arms around his neck, squeezing probably harder than she means to, but she figures her strength isn't that of a man's anymore, so it shouldn't hurt him too much.

“Thank you,” she says into his cheek. “I can't ever thank you enough,” Dee says, finally noticing her voice is different now that she's no longer worried about Castiel.

She pulls back, then looks at her hands, her wrists. They're softer, slimmer. She turns her hands back and forth, then looks at her forearms, which are sparsely covered in short, fine, blonde hair. She reaches up and starts at the top of her head, notices she has longer hair and looks at Cas.

“I gave you longer hair so you could decide how you wanted to style it instead of waiting for it to grow out,” Cas says, sounding tired, and he's now leaning back against the chaise, his eyes half closed, but still looking at her like she's amazing. That look he's given Dee on occasion.

She giggles. “Thanks!” Dee says, flashing Cas a smile.

Dee bypasses her throat to grab her breasts. Her shirt is loose now, but she cups her breasts, feeling the weight of them in her hands. They don't feel huge, don't feel tiny, and it's totally awesome to be feeling breasts from this side of things. She flicks a nipple, gasping at the sensation, then blushes when she sees Sam is watching her.

Sam chuckles. “Because of the occasion, you totally get to cop a feel, and I won't tease you or anything.”

Dee laughs. “Dude, are they awesome tits?” she asks, then lifts her shirt, pushing her chest out.

Sam freezes, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping. Dee hears Charlie laughing hysterically, but Dee is enjoying Sam's cheeks flushing way too much to look at her. Sam's mouth has started moving a little, like he wants to say something, anything, but Dee chuckles as nothing comes out.

“Well?” Dee drawls at Sam, shaking her tits back and forth enough to make them bounce.

Sam looks up to make eye contact with her as if he had to drag his eyes away from her breasts with something physical and it took effort. “Uhm, yeah, I'd say they're awesome tits,” he says, his eyes moving back down to her breasts.

Dee puts her shirt down, still giggling. She glances at Castiel, sees that's he's got his head back, his eyes closed, but his lips are twitching into a smirk. She doesn't know if Cas caught a look at her tits, but she's pretty sure he did, and the smirk is only partly because of Sam's reaction.

Dee reaches under her shirt, tweaking her left nipple, and she hears Sam squeak. “They're so sensitive, Sammy!” she says enthusiastically. “I already had sensitive nipples, but damn, no wonder some chicks don't like their nipples played with and others go nuts with all the squirming and moaning when you flick them!”

Sam snorts, his eyes still working over Dee's body. Dee really wants to get a good look at her new body too, but she needs to tease Sam just a little longer. She's his big sister now, and she can't let him think that the teasing stops.

“Want to see my pussy?” Dee asks, her hands going to the button on her jeans.

Sam blinks, his eyes moving back up to Dee's face. “Huh?” Sam says stupidly. Then it seems to catch up with him. “Uhm, n-no. No! That's okay. Leave it to my imagination,” he says, then realizes what he's said. “I mean, no! That wasn't. I'm sorry. Not my imagination. I'm not going to imagine your pussy, y-your vagina, y-no. My sister. That I've known for years. You raised me. Changed my diapers. And, fuck, I've got an amazingly hot sister, and I'll be beating the guys and girls off of you, but yeah, my sister. Sister,” he says, almost as if he's convincing his dick who it is inside this new body in front of him.

Dee snorts. “Breathe, Sam,” she says.

Sam does, then lets out a laugh that sounds more like a honk, which just makes Charlie's giggles turn into guffaws.

“Sam's face!” Charlie says in between clutching her stomach and bouts of laughter. “His face is awesome! Best. Reaction. Ever!” she says as she points at Sam.

Sam blushes even harder, and his smile gets so big that his dimples are showing. “What can I say. I'm a heterosexual male, and I saw tits,” he says with a shrug.

Cas lets out a huff, and Dee turns to look at him. He already looks a little better, but he looks pale, and his eyes are closed, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

“Can I do anything for you, Cas? Or do you just have to get some rest?” Dee asks, still concerned.

Cas smiles, but his eyes remain closed. “I'm fine. Go enjoy your new body. Just remember to use protection unless you're with Charlie because the both of you are clean,” he says, his speech a little slurred.

“I don't plan on being with anybody but Charlie, at least for a while,” Dee says, smiling at Charlie.

Charlie gives her a sweet smile in return. “It's nice to know we're both clean, even though I already knew I was,” she says.

“I knew I was clean too,” Dee says, then turns to Cas again. “Do you want a blanket?”

“Go. Enjoy. I'll rest,” Cas says, sounding like he's about to fall asleep.

“I want a kiss!” Charlie blurts, getting out of her chair and getting on her knees in front of Dee.

“Mmm, yeah,” Dee says, leaning forward and capturing Charlie's lips in her first kiss with her new body.

It takes her a few moments to reorient herself with not only the differences in her own facial features, but also the changes in her mouth and tongue. They don't seem weak, like they're brand new, but things move a little differently, her nose fits in tighter with Charlie's, and she's glad to feel that her lips are still quite soft and about the same size.

Dee gasps, pulling back and looking at Charlie with wide eyes. “How do you know when your pussy is wet?”

“Oh, fuck!” Sam yelps, stumbling up from the chair. He pushes down on his crotch as he turns, walking out of the library with a wide gait. “The two of you are going to make my dick fall off!” he yells as he gets to the doorway.

Charlie giggles. “I say we totally use this to see how many times we can get him to jerk off in a week, then tease him when he walks around funny because he's got chaffing,” she says, an evil grin on her face.

“God, marry me, you evil woman!” Dee says, leaning back down and giving Charlie a quick kiss.

Charlie laughs, then stands up, grabbing Dee's hand and pulling her up. When Dee is finally on her feet, she feels a little dizzy and holds onto Charlie's hand tighter.

“You okay?” Charlie asks, putting her other hand on Dee's shoulder.

Dee looks down at Charlie, noticing the height difference, but it's not as much as it used to be. She's maybe four or so inches taller than Charlie now instead of seven or eight. She smiles. “I'm still taller than you,” Dee says.

Charlie smirks. “Wait until you see yourself,” she says, leering again.

Dee feels a tingle of arousal run through her, and it feels different than it used to, but she still recognizes it for what it is. She turns to look at Cas, sees that his face has relaxed, and he almost looks as if he's asleep. He said he'd be okay, so Charlie turns to Charlie again.

“I wanna try out my new equipment!” she says, then takes off toward their room.


	8. Part 7

Part 7

She trips a few times on her way to their room, not badly enough she can't catch herself, but between the new body and the jeans falling down over her too-big boots, she's surprised she doesn't fall flat on her face. She gets to their room, and she hears Charlie close the door behind them. Dee's already pulling her shirt off.

“Wait!” Charlie says, then grabs her hand and drags her over to the mirror.

Dee looks at her face for the first time. “Oh!” she squeaks.

Her eyes are still the same shade of green, her eyebrows a little thicker. Her hair is the same dirty blonde, but it's a touch below her shoulders with a naturally gentle wave to it that frames her face perfectly.

Her eyes are nearly the same shape, but softened with more feminine cheekbones taking the severity away from her features. Her nose is a little slimmer, but close to what it used to be. Her mouth is smaller, but her lips are still just as big.

She turns her head side to side, looking at her more feminine jawline, her soft chin, her lack of stubble, and she feels a thrill run through her body. “I don't have to shave my face anymore,” she breathes.

Charlie stays quiet, and Dee assumes Charlie's giving her time to acquaint herself with her new body. Because Charlie's awesome like that.

Dee reaches up and runs a finger over her jawline, down her smaller neck, over where her Adam's apple used to be. She feels Charlie pulling her shirt off, and she watches in the mirror until the shirt covers her eyes, and once it's over her head, she looks down at her shoulders.

She's got fine blonde hair on her body that's so much more attractive than the dark, coarse hair her other body had. Dee's eyes move down further, and she gets her first look at her tits.

“Oh!” Dee yelps. “I twitched!” she says, wanting to put her hand between her legs, but resisting for now.

Charlie is grinning. “Your tits make my clit twitch too,” she says.

“Oh, fuck!” Dee yelps again. “It twitched harder,” she says, breathing a little harder.

“Look at your pretty little nipples,” Charlie says, reaching around to gently rub Dee's right nipple with her index finger.

Dee shivers and moans, her pussy clenching. “I still have perky nipples,” she says with a grin.

Charlie snorts, resting her left temple on Dee's right shoulder. She moves her finger down to lightly stroke the underside of Dee's right breast, then down Dee's stomach to her belly button.

“Wanna see more?” Charlie asks, her hand hovering over the button on Dee's jeans.

“Uh-huh,” Dee says, nodding slightly.

Charlie squats next to Dee, then unlaces the boots. “Up,” she says, tapping Dee's right leg.

Dee lifts her legs one at a time, and Charlie takes her boots and socks off. She likes the size of her feet. They're so much more attractive than big male feet. She wants to suck on her own toes, lick her own arch.

Charlie stands back up, tapping Dee's hand as she goes. “Let go,” she says.

Dee lets go of the jeans, letting them fall without ever needing to be unbuttoned because of her new size. She frowns at the panties. “They're too big,” she says, feeling silly for being upset that one of her favorite panties won't fit anymore.

“We'll get new ones, baby,” Charlie says, hooking her finger inside the waist of the panties and giving them a gentle tug.

The pink boyshorts fall to Dee's ankles, and she sees her pussy for the first time. Her breath gets stuck in her throat, and she feels her eyes burning again. Charlie must realize she's a little emotional, because she rests her head against Dee's shoulder again and wraps her arms around Dee's waist, not squeezing, but just a reassuring hold.

“It's really gone,” Dee whispers. She's a little scared to touch her pussy, as if it'll vanish once she tries to confirm that what she's seeing is real. “It's really, he, h-he really did it,” she says, her left hand sliding across her leg, her fingers barely touching the top of her pussy. “It's mine,” she says, voice cracking.

“It's all yours, Dee,” Charlie says.

Dee's breath comes out in a punch of air. “I really am a woman,” she says, not able to stop looking at her pussy. “It's, ah, I-I've wanted this for so fucking long, and it's really mine. I never thought I'd be able to have this,” she says, a mixture of relief and excitement running through her body.

“Your ass is totally adorable too,” Charlie stage whispers.

It breaks Dee's overly serious mood, and she lets out a bark of laughter. “Thanks, I needed that,” she says with a grin on her face.

“Spread your legs a little more,” Charlie says, and Dee does as she's told. “Check it out. It's yours, so you should be the one to do the honors. See what Cas gave you,” she says, making it seem completely non-sexual.

Dee figures Charlie's giving her more room to digest all of this. Dee's pussy is definitely wet, and she'd really like to try everything out with Charlie, but Dee needs to do this. She needs to take this one step at a time and discover what she always should have had.

Her pubic hair is neatly trimmed, and her pussy is perfect. She couldn't have asked for better. Okay, so maybe it's not perfect, but it's hers. She's never really given a shit what it would look like as long as she had one. She'd wondered if once she had one she would care about that sort of thing, but she really doesn't. It's perfect because it's hers.

Her outer lips are a little on the big side, and she can't see her clit with the hair and the size of her lips, so she spreads herself with her index and middle fingers, each one sliding down either side of her slit. She pulls apart her lips and sees her perfect little clit, her eyes moving down to see her hole, which looks awfully small, but she's used to seeing pussy up close or in porn, so it stands to reason hers would be small.

Then the thought strikes her that she's possibly a virgin. She shivers, remembering what Castiel had said when he'd remade Dee's male body. If Cas re-formed everything, would he have made her a virgin? It sounds to her like something an angel would do, especially since he'd done it before.

Dee had known she was a virgin when she'd been fresh out of Hell, whether anyone could tell physically from her male body or not. But she doesn't know if she's got an intact hymen in this body, and she wonders what it'll feel like to play with her pussy, not only because she's got one now, but because it's most likely virgin territory.

She uses her right index finger to gently touch her clit and gasps at the sensation. “Oh, fuck! I totally get it now why women like their clit played with, because, hell yeah!” she groans, trying not to touch too much and get herself off prematurely.

Then another thought strikes her. Dean had always been able to have more than one orgasm in a night, a short refractory time compared to other guys, but now she might be able to have multiple orgasms. She wonders if her clit will get oversensitive after she comes like her dick had been or if she'd be able to just keep on going. She wonders how many orgasms she can have in a night.

Charlie smiles. “Clits are awesome,” she says.

“Yeah,” Dee says. “Dad gave me the talk, told me I should pay attention to a woman's clit, and it sounded stupid to me because why would a clit be so much fun when that's not even where a dick goes. I asked one of the first chicks I was with and she explained how awesome it was. I figured I'd never really understand why, but what the hell, just go with it.”

Charlie grins, then kisses her shoulder. “And you haven't even had it properly played with yet. Wait until I use my tongue on it.”

“Mmm,” Dee shudders, her clit twitching again. “Yeah, I want that,” she says.

“Oh, you'll be getting it,” Charlie promises. “I plan on giving you thorough instruction in everything your body can do now,” she says, her voice husky with arousal.

Dee turns toward Charlie, then checks out her own ass. “You were right. My ass is adorable!” she says.

“You're probably a little more flexible now,” Charlie says as she takes a hold of Dee's upper arms and turns her so that her back is fully toward the mirror, then motions toward the mirror with her chin. “Twist and check out your ass.”

Dee twists her upper body and neck. “Ooh! I really am more flexible!” she says, grinning as she's totally able to check out her own ass. “Yeah, awesome ass!”

Charlie chuckles. “Here,” she says, then reaches around Charlie, one hand on each ass cheek, and spreads Dee's cheeks. “Check it out.”

“Hell yeah,” Dee groans, seeing her own asshole. She spreads her legs some, bends at the waist a little, and uses a hand on her own hip to force her upper body to twist so she can see her pussy from behind in the mirror.

“Look at that pretty little pussy, Dee,” Charlie says, spreading Dee's cheeks wide, then kneading them with her hands.

Dee stands up straight so quickly she dislodges Charlie. “I wanna try everything!” she says, eyes wide. She bites her lip as Charlie's eyes darken with arousal.

“Bed,” Charlie says, dragging Dee over to the bed and giving her a shove.

Dee flops down onto the bed, giggling as she falls onto her back and her tits bounce all over. She's amazed by how easy it was for Charlie to manhandle her. Charlie's not a weakling, and even when Dee had a male body, Charlie could be rough in an awesome way, but now that Dee's in her new body, it's even easier, and Dee feels even more like Charlie could move her around just how she wants her.

It's a huge turn on, and Dee can't wait to see what else is in store. As Charlie crawls onto the bed, Dee spreads her legs, planting her feet on the bed in a wide stance and letting her legs fall open. Charlie freezes, looking at Dee's new pussy.

“Clothes,” Dee growls. “You need less of them for this,” she says, flapping her hand at Charlie like the clothes are a horrible annoyance.

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie says, breaking her stare and yanking off her clothes.

Dee chuckles. “A little enthusiastic there, aren't you,” she says with a sly grin.

“It's for science!” Charlie says, tossing her bra across the room, then sliding her jeans and panties down her legs. “You've never had an orgasm in this body. This is totally for science!” she says as the clothes get caught up on her boots. She growls, turning to deal with the boots.

Dee laughs, her chest swelling with affection. “Charlie?”

“Yeah, Dee?” she replies, one leg out of the jeans and panties, the other still stuck on her boot.

“I love you,” Dee says.

Charlie turns to look her in the eye, a smile spreading across her lips. “I still think I love you more,” she says, yanking her other boot off and kicking at her jeans and panties.

“I don't know,” Dee drawls. “Because I think if you really did love me more, you'd kiss me agai–mmm!” she says, cut off by Charlie pouncing and smashing their lips together.

Charlie starts off intense, her lips pushing Dee's open and her tongue shoving into Dee's mouth, but once she's in there, she softens the kiss, slowing down and caressing Dee's mouth and lips. Charlie lays her body down over Dee's, and Dee loves the sensation of her soft skin and her weight pushing her down into the bed, Charlie's breasts smooshing up against her own.

Dee reaches up, wrapping her arms around Charlie to run her new slender fingers over Charlie's back as Charlie runs her fingers through Dee's hair.

“Mmm, it's soft,” Charlie says, pulling out of the kiss just enough that her lips graze Dee's when she speaks.

“I like what Cas did with it,” Dee says, shivering as Charlie gently scratches over her scalp, then grabs a handful of hair. She gasps when Charlie pulls her head to the side. “And it's great for getting rough, apparently,” she says, then moans loudly as Charlie starts sucking on her exposed neck.

Charlie sucks for a while, then moves on to lick the shell of Dee's ear down to her earlobe, where she nibbles, making Dee writhe on the bed. Dee is surprised when Charlie suddenly pushes herself up with her hands, looking down at Dee.

“You smell and taste like a girl!” Charlie says, that infectious grin spread across her lips.

Dee lets out a happy sigh. Things just keep falling into place. She never liked how she smelled before. It always felt wrong no matter what soap or shampoo she used. She's thrilled that yet another thing that made up the huge ball of wrong is now right.

“I think you need more proof that all of me tastes like a girl,” Dee says with a little twitch of her lips, a raising eyebrow.

“For science,” Charlie says with a nod. “Of course!”

Dee chuckles, then moans as Charlie licks a stripe from Dee's neck, down her chest, and out to her left nipple.

“Yeah,” Dee growls, “I totally like tits from both sides.”

Charlie uses her tongue to flick at Dee's nipple, and Dee starts squirming, her legs closing in on Charlie's body and squeezing her a little.

Charlie mouths at Dee's breast, licking and kissing it as Dee tries to get some friction down below. She starts to get a little frustrated when nothing works, then realizes why and starts laughing.

“So, yeah, that whole part about me not having a dick anymore is going to take a while to remember,” Dee says with a self-deprecating chuckle. “I'm trying for some friction, and I'm not getting any,” she says, then pouts up at Charlie.

Charlie giggles, then squirms down some. “Lift your legs up in the air, your knees going up and out like you're putting your knees to your chest only with your legs spread, then tilt your pelvis up like you're trying to give me a good target for pegging your asshole,” she says.

“Okay,” Dee says, then follows directions. “Hell. Yeah,” she yells as Charlie tilts her own pelvis down, and the two of them slot in perfectly for Dee's pussy to get some awesome friction from Charlie's pussy.

Charlie moans, not going all that fast, not putting much force behind her thrusts. Dee tries to lift her pussy up more to get herself off, but Charlie pulls back.

“You wanna come already?” Charlie asks, looking Dee in the eye.

Dee tries to concentrate on the words. “Uhm, well, I was hoping we could find out if I can have multiple orgasms, and I'm fairly sure you're going to get me off more than once in the next few hours, so that would be a yes,” Dee says with a grin.

“Do you think you can come just by rubbing our pussies together?” Charlie asks, the drawl to her words suggesting she knows the dirty talk is going to drive Dee crazy.

Dee wriggles a little, trying to spread her legs wider, get her pussy closer to Charlie's, and when Charlie starts moving her hips, thrusting into Dee's pussy again, Dee yelps.

Dee nods. “I totally can get off on this,” she says, then rethinks it. “Uhm, I think I can,” she says, looking up at Charlie as if she's lost.

Charlie giggles. “Never know 'til you try,” she says, putting more force behind her movements.

“Oh, yeah, I really like that,” Dee says, her eyes falling closed, her hands reaching up to feel her own tits.

She pinches her right nipple, squirming at the sensation, then her eyes open wide when she feels a wet tongue on her left nipple. She watches Charlie running her tongue over her nipple, then around her areola and back again to the nipple, her movements jerky as she thrusts against Dee's pussy.

“Let me know if you don't like this and I'll stop,” Charlie says, then after Dee nods, she sucks on Dee's nipple.

“Oh!” Dee yelps, amazed at how different the sensation is in her female body. She's had women suck on her nipples before, but this is more intense, and she wants more, but her whole body is feeling tighter, her pussy is twitching, and she feels a need to do something, but she doesn't know what.

Charlie pulls back, a grin on her face. “Mental note; Dee likes getting her nipples sucked,” she says.

“More,” Dee says desperately. “I need something,” she says as she squirms under Charlie, her nails digging into Charlie's forearms.

The feeling is somewhat similar to when she used to ejaculate, but it's overwhelming, it's coming fast, her whole body feels like she's electrified without the pain, but she's not coming, or at least she doesn't think she is.

“Ch-Charlie!” Dee yelps, and she knows she must look a little freaked out because Charlie just nods.

“Go with it,” Charlie says, her hips slapping against Dee's legs, their pussies grinding against each other.

Dee's lower stomach tenses, and it seems to spread down from there, her pussy clenching hard, her clit twitching and sending amazing shocks all throughout her legs and torso. She swears she feels it all the way out to the tips of her fingers, her back bowing, her teeth clenching before she opens her mouth wide, letting out a growl that turns into an elongated “ah!” as she thrusts her pussy up as hard as she can into Charlie.

She feels herself coming down from the orgasm, and already her brain is letting her know that it lasted much longer than it used to. In fact she thinks it's still going on, but it's turned into waves that are making the muscles in her stomach spasm, her hips twitch, and each one is making her gasp.

Once she settles down from the intensity, her whole body still feels twitchy, and her stomach keeps on giving her little spasms, her pussy feeling warm, and she has a strong urge to gently run her fingers over her outer lips.

“Well?” Charlie asks.

“Uhmmmyeah, that was awesome,” she slurs. “And I wanna do that again. Lots of times.”

“You were so fucking hot that I came too,” Charlie says.

Dee frowns up at Charlie. “I missed it,” she grumbles.

Charlie giggles. “You were kind of preoccupied by something.”

“I already want more,” Dee announces.

“Oh, you'll be getting more,” Charlie promises, then crawls backward, getting down onto her belly on the bed so that her face is between Dee's legs and in the perfect position to eat Dee out.

“Oh, yeah! Tons of yes,” Dee says enthusiastically as she sits partially up, using her elbows to support herself and get a good view of Charlie.

She has always loved getting women off by eating them out. Loved the taste, the noises women make, the feeling of a pussy clenching around her tongue. Now she gets to feel it from the other side, and she definitely wants to watch.

Charlie uses the tip of her tongue to gently lick around Dee's outer lips, and Dee shivers at the sensation. She tries to spread her legs more, and she really wants to shove Charlie's face into her pussy, but she controls herself, lets Charlie do her own thing.

Dee watches as Charlie uses the flat of her tongue to lick a long swipe up the seam of Dee's lips. “Oh, I like that too,” she says, her breathing already speeding up again.

Charlie takes her time, slowly working her way in, and Dee realizes that Charlie's already getting a taste of her.

“Hey! Does my pussy taste good?” she asks.

Charlie laughs, losing her rhythm and smiling up at Dee. “Yes, you taste wonderful. And I'll give you a taste after you come again, this time with my tongue on your clit,” she says.

Dee nods. “I like that plan,” she says, then feels her thighs tremble as Charlie goes deeper, licking just inside her hole.

Her breathing is becoming erratic, and it's punctuated by gasps the more Charlie does to her. Charlie slides her tongue up to Dee's clit and does an experimental flick. Dee's hips jerk, and she gasps again.

“Too much?” Charlie asks.

“Hell, no,” Dee says. “More, please!”

Charlie licks her clit again, this time with more pressure, then runs her tongue all around it. She wriggles her tongue back and forth, then up and down, and Dee has a hard time controlling her hips, keeping herself from pushing onto Charlie's face.

Charlie goes back to shoving her tongue inside Dee's hole, and Dee's body tenses. Charlie's tongue is fucking in and out of her hole, and Dee has a near overwhelming urge to play with her clit while Charlie does that.

Dee lets out a loud moan and her eyes fall closed as Charlie moves back to her clit. She alternately sucks on it and licks it, then flicks back and forth so fast that Dee feels another orgasm coming, this one not coming over her as fast, but it still feels like waves are rolling through her, and she lets herself flop back onto the bed, her hips jerking, her mouth open as she lets out a long “oh” sound.

Instead of stopping, Charlie starts sucking on Dee's clit, and Dee feels a finger at her hole, which makes her struggle to her elbows again, her eyes wide. “Oh, fuck,” Dee breathes.

She doesn't know if she can do this. She's oversensitive, but at the same time her body is already tensing. She wants to push Charlie away just as much as she wants to beg for more, beg for faster.

Dee starts up a keening noise, and Charlie's finger pushes in, feeling like nothing she's ever felt before. She laughs inwardly at her preconceived notions of what this would feel like and that she'd assumed it would feel like a finger up her ass. It's nothing like it, and she's both surprised and delighted.

Charlie uses just the one, fucking in and out of Dee's hole with it, still sucking and licking Dee's clit. Dee wants Charlie's finger deeper, harder, and she wants more. The feeling makes her try to spread her legs wider.

“Oh, fuck, Charlie, yeah!” Dee says, her voice cracking, her body already shaking, and an intense feeling flashing through her that's nearly painful, but feels way too good to ever try to stop.

She shudders and moans through her next orgasm, feeling her pussy clamp down on Charlie's finger and her clit twitching so hard it hurts. Charlie gentles as Dee comes down from her orgasm, and Dee is very grateful, because this time everything is becoming more sensitive than last time.

Dee feels raw, broken open, and she feels silly, but she wants to wrap up in a blanket. If it were anybody else but Charlie in bed with her, she feels like she might try to cover herself up because of just how vulnerable she feels.

Charlie grabs the blanket from the end of the bed, crawls up next to Dee, and covers the two of them with it. Dee isn't saying anything, but she does curl into Charlie when Charlie wraps her right arm around her. She tucks her head in under Charlie's chin, taking a deep breath, nuzzling Charlie's skin.

Charlie kisses the top of Dee's head. “Round two can wait until later,” she says softly.

Dee still doesn't say anything. She kisses Charlie's neck, then closes her eyes, the tip of her nose touching Charlie's skin. She throws her left leg over Charlie's legs, wanting to feel as much connection as she can get, wanting to be skin-on-skin everywhere she can.

She's not tired. She doesn't feel like she's going to drift off. She just wants to be here, with Charlie. Dee feels a little silly for having reacted this way, but Charlie's not saying anything, isn't asking her any questions, and the way she's softly touching Dee, holding her, Charlie must have seen something in Dee's eyes, and Dee falls in love with Charlie that much more for knowing what to do.

“I love you,” Dee whispers.

Charlie kisses the top of Dee's head again. “Still love you more,” she whispers into Dee's hair.

\- - -

Dee doesn't know how long they stay like that. She works through things in her head some of the time, other times she's just taking stock of her body, how tingly and warm everything feels, the way her body fits with Charlie's in a way her other body never did.

Everything happened so fast that Dee hadn't had time for everything to sink in, and now that she's got the time, she feels swells of so much happiness that she wonders if she'll burst.

She could never have imagined things would turn out this way, and she wants to find a way to thank Castiel. She can't think of anything to do for him, to give to him, or anything she could possibly say, but maybe Sam and Charlie can help.

Cas has done so much for her, and this goes so far beyond a greeting card that it's not even funny. Dee feels privileged to have this, and even though she's not going to dive into an ocean of self pity and drown in thinking she doesn't deserve this, she does realize this is something precious, something people would die or kill for. And it's all hers.

She sucks on her bottom lip, bites it experimentally like she's thinking hard about something to see how it feels with the new shape of her mouth. She wonders if it looks sexy. She wriggles her toes, and she can't help but grin when they tickle Charlie's leg and Charlie squirms a little.

It's almost too much to take in. The changes in her body are everywhere. The toes she used to tickle Charlie even feel daintier, and her whole foot feels smaller, but no less sturdy.

Her tits are pressed up against Charlie's belly, and she shifts her body some, enjoying the way her nipples drag against Charlie's skin.

Charlie must be sleeping, because her breathing is shallow and too regular for her to be awake. Dee sticks out her tongue, licking Charlie's neck, then mouthing over the same spot.

Dee squeezes her thighs together just to see how it feels and gasps when she feels how slippery she is between her legs, inside her pussy. It feels amazing.

She reaches down with her left hand and gently touches her left labia, slowly moving her index and middle fingers around, gathering some of the slick and shifting a bit so she can get her fingers between her lips to touch her clit.

“Mmm,” Dee moans softly, trying not to wake Charlie as she fingers herself. She pushes, rubs, slides around her clit, getting to know her body and enjoying the sensations. She slips her middle finger down to her hole and lets it slide in.

She's wetter than she thought she was, and Dee remembers just how aroused she'd been, how out of her mind with pleasure she was. No wonder she's soaking wet down there. She pushes her finger all the way in, going slow and learning herself, then pulls back out, making sure to get her fingers all wet, then she brings her hand up, pushes her fingers into her mouth, and moans at the way she tastes.

She smiles around her fingers, her tongue rubbing against her fingers, sucking them clean and getting every last bit of slick from them. She reaches back down, cupping her pussy with her left hand, just feeling the shape of it, the warmth.

She moves her hand a little, feeling the neatly-trimmed pubic hair brushing against her hand. It's soft and so feminine that Dee lets out a little huff of happiness, a quick punch of air that would be a happy laugh if she wasn't worried about waking Charlie.

Dee remembers that Sam was the one to set this all up, and she grins as she remembers Sam running out of the room with a raging hard-on. She needs to do something for Sam. Well, beside going with Charlie's plan of getting her little brother to jerk off so much he chafes his dick, because that's just a given.

She needs to let him know that she appreciates that he thought of her, that he'd brought it up to Cas. Dee wonders if Cas fixed Sam's tail yet, and she thinks she's probably going to miss the thing. It's nothing huge, but Sam's been using it like it's a fifth limb he's always had.

And Charlie. Dee's so happy to have her, to love her, to be loved by her that she feels it to her core. Everything within her being screams that she wants to spend her life with this woman. This is it. This is love. And the way Charlie talks to her, the things she says, the way she looks at Dee, well, Dee thinks there's a good chance Charlie feels the same way.

Dee thinks about her off-hand comment to Charlie. The one where she joked about wanting to marry her because she was evil when she wanted to torture Sam with dick chaffing. And Dee didn't think of it at the time, but now that she has time to dwell on it, she really does want to marry Charlie.

It doesn't send panic through her body like she's always thought it would when she contemplated spending the rest of her life with one lover. It does send a swell of affection and excitement through her chest and stomach.

She doesn't want to push and possibly fuck things up, but she decides to feel things out with Charlie, see if Charlie really is hoping for that. It doesn't have to be now. It doesn't even have to be in the next year.

Dee's already sure about Charlie, and if it takes time for Charlie to be that sure, it's okay with Dee. She knows it's a huge thing.

She grins, imagining a wedding. Dee has never wanted anything huge whenever she thought about a wedding. And now that she's female, and since same-sex marriage is still banned in Kansas, they'll have to find somewhere else, but that's okay with Dee. A quick trip up to Iowa or even a longer trip over to California is fine with her.

But Dee isn't going to push. She's happy with so much that's happened. She can't remember being happier than this. She's surrounded by loved ones, has a home for the first time since she was four years old, and she has the body she was always meant to have.

It couldn't possibly get better than this.

\- - -

Dee wakes to soft kisses being placed on her neck, her face, and the more she wakes up, the more Charlie moves to the corners of Dee's mouth. Dee smiles, opening her eyes to see Charlie with bedhead and a lazy grin on her face.

“I fell asleep,” Dee says, surprised by how scratchy and deep her morning voice is.

“I wore you out with my epic cunnilingus skills,” Charlie says with a smirk.

Dee chuckles, then kisses Charlie just because she can. “Yes, you did.”

“Hey,” Charlie says, her eyebrows coming down, letting Dee know Charlie's concerned about something, “if I get too intense or you want me to back off on something, let me know. No hard feelings, okay?”

Dee shakes her head as she realizes Charlie's worried about Dee's reaction to all the orgasms. “It wasn't that,” she says, reaching up to run her fingers through Charlie's messy hair. “I really, really liked what you did. I had a great time. It was just that I didn't expect my reaction. I hadn't expected I would feel...,” she trails off, not knowing what word to use.

“Vulnerable?” Charlie asks, the concerned look on her face smoothing out now that Dee has said it wasn't a bad experience.

Dee thinks about it, remembers using that word in her own head to describe how she felt after she'd come the third time. She nods. “Yeah. And raw. And broken open,” she whispers.

Charlie leans down to give Dee another gentle kiss. “It's all new to you. The body is new and the sex is completely different even if you're having it with me,” Charlie says. “The first time I ever had sex, I was way too nervous and excited to feel anything other than relief that we'd both made each other come. It wasn't until the second time I was with someone that I experienced something like what you did.”

Dee grimaces. “How did you handle it?” she asks.

“Well, thankfully I was with a really awesome girl,” she says with a bit of a blush to her cheeks. “She held me, let me just have a while to gather myself, and then we did it all over again a few more times because the sex was amazing.”

Dee chuckles, then her smile falls. “Thanks. For letting me be a dork,” she says, really wanting to let Charlie know what it means to her.

“You weren't a dork,” Charlie says, shaking her head. “Like I said; new experiences, new body, new emotions, blah, blah, blah. As long as you let me know if something isn't feeling right or you'd like something different or whatever, everything should go fairly smoothly. Not that sex is perfect, by any means, but you know,” she says, shrugging and grinning adorably.

Dee gives Charlie a grateful smile. Then she remembers a question she'd thought of earlier while Charlie was asleep. “Hey, how long did it take for my body to change? I've was wondering about it while I was snuggling with you and you were making cute sleepy noises,” Dee says.

Charlie's lips twitch into a half smile. “I make cute sleepy noises?”

Dee smiles. “Yeah, and I like staying awake to listen to them.”

Charlie blushes again, looking embarrassed. “Fifty-seven minutes,” she says.

Dee is confused for a moment, then remembers she had asked a question before getting distracted by adorableness. “You remember the time exactly?”

Charlie nods, a bit of a quirk to her lips. “It was a little scary, and since Cas said it shouldn't take more than an hour, I kept an eye on the time.”

The way Charlie's expression has changed, Dee can see how scared Charlie had been. “It didn't seem like that long,” Dee says, the bridge of her nose scrunching up.

“It felt a lot longer than fifty-seven minutes for me and Sam,” Charlie says with a wince.

“Why?” Dee asks. She hadn't noticed Sam or Charlie looking concerned, but then again she had been trying to keep still and she was focused on what her own body was doing.

“It wasn't horrible,” Charlie reassures her, “and I don't know what in particular Sam was worried about because we didn't say anything to each other, but I could tell by the look on Sam's face, the way he'd throw concerned looks my way that he was just as nervous as me.”

“What were you worried about?” Dee asks, her hand reaching up and cupping Charlie's neck, needing more of a connection, wanting to banish the scary thoughts from Charlie's head.

Charlie sighs, her eyes looking off to the side, and Dee thinks Charlie might cry for a moment, and then she sees tears well up in Charlie's eyes.

“I know Cas was an angel, and I know he has his grace back,” Charlie says, her eyes focused on something over Dee's left shoulder, “but things happen, and I was so scared he'd mess something up or accidentally stop your heart or blink your lungs out of existence or something. Anything could have happened,” she says, ending on a whisper.

“Hey,” Dee says, reaching up with her left hand so that she can take hold of both sides of Charlie's neck. “I'm okay. Nothing happened. Well, nothing other than something I've wished for, hoped for so hard all my life that I would've done damn near anything to have it. And now I do,” she says, smiling up at Charlie.

Charlie chuckles, her bottom lip wobbling a little, but she seems to pull herself out of the mindset she'd remembered being in while watching Dean become Dee. “And I'm so fucking happy for you that I wanna scream it out to everyone,” Charlie says, taking a deep breath and letting out a big sigh.

She's glad Charlie seems relieved. “I'll settle for you taking me on a shopping trip to get a whole new wardrobe,” Dee says, one eyebrow raised.

Charlie laughs. “Oh, we're so doing that. I can't wait to see your face when you try on outfits and they fit the way you've always wanted them to,” she says, nodding toward Dee's crotch.

Dee chuckles. “Yeah, I'd forgotten about that even when I was looking in the mirror before. I was so excited over everything, so interested to see everything that I hadn't even thought of how my dick isn't going to fuck with the way panties fit or,” and then Dee's eyes widen, her breath catches in her throat, and she scrambles up to a sitting position, nearly knocking Charlie over, “or a skirt! I can wear a skirt and not only is it gonna look amazing without a dick, but I can wear it in public with no ass kicking or dirty looks!”

Charlie looks just as excited as Dee feels. “I bet you're going to look great in a skirt, baby,” Charlie says, an affectionate smile on her face.

“What time is it?” Dee asks, looking around for the clock, then her excitement falls when she sees the time. “It's five a.m.,” she says with a pout, her shoulders dropping.

“Aww,” Charlie says, obviously trying not to laugh at Dee's disappointment. “We'll go in a few hours.”

She's knows she's being patronized, but she doesn't care. Charlie can get away with it. “Fine,” Dee grumbles.

“I think what we should do is go to Walmart first,” Charlie says.

Dee looks at Charlie with as much disgust as she can put into her expression. “No!” she whines, and she feels no shame in the whining because this is important. “I've had Walmart and thrift shop clothes my whole life. I want some nice stuff!”

“Hang on, hang on,” Charlie says, holding her hands out, and this time Dee knows Charlie's working really hard at not giggling. “You're taller than me, but you're also thinner than me, which means anything we put on you that we already have is going to look funny, so let's go to Walmart to get a few basics and necessities, then we'll head over to the mall for some nicer stuff when you don't look like you just got off the plane and lost all your luggage, okay?”

“Oh,” Dee says, her mood changing quickly. “Yeah, I hadn't thought of that,” she says with a sheepish grin.

“I'm not tired anymore, so how about I go downstairs and start some breakfast while you shower and find something that fits at least sort of decently,” Charlie says, crawling off the bed.

Dee takes the opportunity to thoroughly check out Charlie's ass as she's crawling off the bed. “What if I get stuck in the shower for a while?” she asks, grinning up at Charlie.

Charlie snorts. “Well, I figured that was going to happen, which is why I'm going to make waffles, eggs, and sausage. It should take long enough that you'll get some alone time before I'm done.”

“Cool!” Dee says, nearly jumping out of bed, wincing a bit when her tits bounce a little harder than tits comfortably bounce. She makes a mental note to remember that, because ouch.

“Oh, and before you shower,” Charlie says, turning and pointing at Dee's crotch. “FYI; soap may be a sort of okay lubricant for anal play in the shower, but it doesn't feel good up inside your pussy.”

Dee feels like holding her pussy to protect it from the evil soap. “Uhm, yeah, thanks. Definitely good to know,” she says with a nod, her eyes wide. “Anything else I should know about showering?”

Charlie does her thinking face for a moment. “Use a little bit of my conditioner in your hair after you shampoo, but you don't use as much conditioner as you might think you need to, and you rinse it out,” Charlie instructs. “Oh, and in case the bright idea occurs to you, conditioner doesn't feel good inside your pussy either,” she says with a grimace.

Dee hopes these mental notes stick well. She'd hate to forget them. “Water or lube only, then?” she asks.

“Yeah,” Charlie says, nodding. “And when you wash your pussy, use soap on the outside and rinse. You don't have to freak out if a little goes between your labia because it's deeper inside that the soap burns. And that area takes care of itself anyway.”

“Cool!” Dee says, a grin spreading across her face. “See ya!” she chirps, waving and heading off to the bathroom.

“Wish I had a hidden video camera in there,” Charlie grumbles loudly from the other room.

Dee chuckles, then briefly wonders if she should set up Charlie's laptop to record her fun time, but the more she thinks about it, the more she thinks she'd get some performance anxiety, so she makes another mental note to take a video next time.

She steps into the shower after checking that the temperature is right, then gets under the spray, letting it caress her hair, her new body. It feels amazing, but Dee has always loved showers. She kneads her breasts and gasps at the sensation of her wet breasts, the nipples a little hard from her arousal.

If she doesn't wash first, she'll be in here for hours, and she really wants waffles. And she really wants to go shopping for new clothes.

She soaps up her hair with Charlie's shampoo, loving the feel of her hair all soapy and falling down over her shoulders. The shampoo smells wonderful, stronger now that it's on her own head instead of what she smells when she kisses Charlie's head.

She scratches at her scalp, pulling all her hair together to feel the weight of it. She rinses it out, puts in some conditioner, and then Dee discovers she doesn't like the greasy feeling of it in her hair, so she rinses it out quickly.

Dee soaps up her body, trying not to spend much time on it, and she doesn't even touch her pussy with the bar of soap, too worried the soap's going to go inside, and she figures the soap running down her body when she rinses off will take care of the washing between her legs.

Once she's rinsed off the soap, she trails her fingers down her belly, over her wet pussy, then pushes her finger in to play with her clit. It feels wonderful in the shower other than the fact that rubbing her clit felt smoother when it was her own slick or Charlie's spit instead of the water.

She slides her index finger down further, pushes into her hole. She thinks of Charlie getting her strap-on and fucking her, and her clit twitches as she thinks about it. Dee doesn't know if she's ready for something as big as the dildo Charlie had been using on her before her body had changed, but she definitely wants to try.

Dee uses her index finger to gently push and rub on her clit as her middle finger slides into her hole. She doesn't fingerfuck herself, just lets the movement of her index finger jostling her middle finger do the trick. She feels herself getting close even though she's barely touched herself.

She puts her left hand on the tiles so she doesn't fall, remembering how hard she'd come hours earlier. Dee tries to find a rhythm that she likes, tries flicking back and forth, then up and down, then tries pushing down on her clit and massaging deeply.

Dee decides flicking back and forth feels great and should get her off, so she speeds up, her mouth falling open and her nails scratching the tile. Her thighs are shaking, and she's not even trying to think of anything in particular to get herself off, just enjoying what she's doing to herself.

She starts panting, a keening noise coming from her as she goes even faster. It hits her suddenly, and she locks her knees to keep from falling as it crashes over her hard. When she feels her pussy contracting around her fingers, she gasps and pushes harder, a sound like a sob coming from her throat as she grits her teeth and rides out her orgasm.

“Mmm, that's never gonna get old,” she pants, her legs shaking.

She rinses off again, splashing a little water at her pussy to clean herself again. She turns off the water and towels off, gasping when the towel touches her nipples.

“That's new,” she says, amazed how sensitive her nipples are.

They've been more sensitive since this new body, and they've always been somewhat sensitive, but she doesn't remember them getting nearly untouchable after orgasm before, and she smiles at the sensation as she wraps the towel around herself.

Dee wraps another towel around her hair, then walks into their room. She looks through her clothes, searching for a pair of old sweatpants she knows have a drawstring. She pulls them on, and even though they're big, she's able to tie them enough to keep them up.

She searches through her shirts and finds one that used to be a bit snug, but it's also very soft. She pulls it over her head and puts on a pair of Charlie's flat shoes, noticing her feet are longer than Charlie's, but the shoes aren't overly uncomfortable.

After giving her hair a scrubbing with the towel, she tosses the towel in the bathroom and heads downstairs. The smells coming from the kitchen are amazing.

“No way in hell you're wearing that,” Sam bellows, startling her.

She hadn't seen Sam, but now that Dee looks over at the table, she sees Sam is sitting there with his eyes wide and his lips in a tight, thin line. She looks down at her clothes, her arms going out to her sides, then looks back up at Sam, a confused expression on her face.

“Oh!” Charlie squeaks, then goes back to arranging the food on the plates, a smile on her face. “I'll give her a jacket, Sam,” she says, then giggles.

“Do I have to go with you guys so I can kick some ass?” Sam asks, a tone to his voice that says he's ready to defend Dee's honor.

Dee smiles, getting a kick out of Sam being protective of her. “I can still kick your ass, little brother,” she says.

“I'll believe it when it happens,” Sam says with a smirk.

“Oh, dude, you're on,” Dee says, feeling a flare of excitement over the challenge.

“After breakfast,” Charlie says in a chiding tone, setting their plates down on the table.

“No way,” Dee says, looking at Charlie like she's said cheeseburgers have been banned in all fifty states. “We're going shopping!”

Charlie chuckles. “Fine, then, after breakfast and after we get you new clothes.”

“I do want to train,” Dee says seriously, pouring syrup on her waffles and cutting them up. “I don't really know what this body can do, but I already feel pretty well-oriented for day-to-day shit.”

“So you're not having balance problems or anything so far?” Sam asks, his 'this is really interesting' face on.

“I had some trouble, but, oh damn, these waffles are good, baby,” Dee says, moaning around the mouthful of food.

Sam grimaces. “That's no more attractive than it was when you were a dude,” he grumbles.

Then Sam takes a bite of his waffles and gets what Dee calls Sam's orgasm face, but she really hopes she never has the opportunity to find out if that's really his orgasm face or not.

“Charlie, you have to share this recipe,” Sam says. Well, he actually moans the words.

“It's a really basic recipe, but sure, I'll share,” Charlie says with a big smile.

“If it's a basic recipe, then it's probably more about how you make it and how long you cook them, at what temperature and all,” Sam says, shoving more waffles in his face.

Dee grins at Sam's enthusiasm as she shovels her own waffles into her face. “Maybe I should go shopping and leave you two to exchange recipes,” she says, still with a mouthful of food.

“Aww!” Charlie whines. “I wanna go!” she says, her lips forming a pout that Dee wants to kiss.

“All right, all right,” Dee says, waving her fork at Charlie, then pointing it at Sam. “Do you wanna go too, Francis?” she asks.

Sam winces. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “You're gonna drag me into the changing rooms with you, and then I'll get arrested on the way out after scaring everyone with my raging boner.”

Dee laughs so hard she snorts. “Poor little Sammy,” she says with an evil grin.

Sam looks her in the eye, his face stern. “But you're wearing a jacket until you get a bra,” he says to Dee.

Dee flutters her eyelashes. “Do my nipples show?” she asks innocently, then gasps. “Are they hard right now?” she asks as she thrusts her chest out.

Sam squeezes his eyes shut, obviously trying to keep from getting that raging boner as well as keeping himself from looking at said nipples. “Yes, they show. And it'll be your fault if I have to break some guy's nose for checking you out.”


	9. Part 8

Part 8

Dee and Charlie are exhausted by the time they get back to the bunker after hours of shopping, and they're greeted by Sam, who helps them with the bags, then directs them toward the kitchen, where he's prepared dinner for them.

Sam looks Dee over, and he seems to approve of her jeans and T-shirt, looking closely to make sure she has a bra on.

“I definitely need to start doing some kind of exercise or you guys are gonna make me fat,” Dee says, appreciatively sniffing the food before digging in.

“So did you get everything you wanted without going into enough detail that I have to leave the dinner table with a napkin over my crotch?” Sam asks.

Charlie snorts. “Well, we did get a few matching panties because Dee liked the way some of them looked so much she wanted me to have some too.”

Sam has a long-suffering look on his face. “And the outer wear?” he prods.

Dee chuckles. “Yes, we got a lot of pants, skirts, tops, a few dresses, and I got a few pairs of shoes, some just because they'll look amazing and some because they were practical.”

“Sounds cool,” Sam says, smiling. “I'm really happy for you, Dee,” he says.

“I'm happy for me too,” Dee says with a smirk.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Would you just try the red peppers, Dee? Please?” he asks, pointing at Dee's plate.

Dee whines. “But I don't like red peppers,” she says, pushing the peppers she'd separated from the pasta around on her plate.

“But they're mixed with sweet potatoes and have sauce on them,” Sam says, puppy face working its magic. “You might like them.”

Dee grumbles, but she stabs one with her fork and pops it into her mouth. A look of surprise comes over her face as she chews. “Okay, this is really weird,” she says, a little spooked.

“What?” Charlie asks, her fork halfway to her mouth.

“I've always hated red peppers, and I can still taste that they're red peppers, but I think I like them,” Dee says, looking up at Sam like she's seen a ghost.

Sam looks puzzled for a moment, then his face lights up. “You have to try chocolate and see if it tastes better!” he blurts like it's the coolest thing ever.

“Why?” Dee asks, her face scrunched up as she peers down at the evil and tasty red peppers. “Oh,” she says as her head snaps up, looking Sam in the eye. “It tastes different because I'm a chick now!”

“Oh, we should try a bunch of foods on you to see what you like and don't like,” Charlie says.

Dee looks down at her plate, poking at the red peppers more. “But the breakfast tasted the same and everything else in the pasta tastes the same,” she says, confused over the whole thing. “Beer tasted the same,” Dee says as she points to the bottle on the table.

Sam gets his 'I get to teach you something' face on. “Women and men have different hormones and chemicals in their brains. I don't think this means you've changed something so basic about you as your whole taste in foods, but maybe just that a few things will be tweaked like the peppers.”

Dee looks down at the peppers again, takes another bite. “They kind of have a tang to them that I like, but I know that's what I didn't like about them before.”

“Are you upset about it? Because you look a little upset about it,” Charlie asks, concerned tone to her voice.

Dee thinks about it, stabs one of the red peppers. “It's not so much that I'm upset about it as it just threw me,” she says, then a horrible thought occurs to her. “I hope I still like cheeseburgers with extra onions and fries!”

Sam snorts, and Dee gives him a sour look. Charlie tries to keep from giggling, but the hand over her mouth isn't really stopping her shoulders from jumping.

“You guys are jerks,” Dee says with a scowl. “You owe me a box of chocolates each.”

Sam and Charlie can't hold it in any longer and laugh so hard that Dee can't help but smile.

\- - -

“Okay, go ahead and try a few moves, and we'll see what happens,” Sam says, standing on the mat and spreading his legs shoulder-width apart, arms at his sides.

They've finished dinner, and after talking for a while to give their stomachs a chance to settle, they've changed into clothes more suitable for sparring and rolled the mats out.

Charlie is in a new pair of striped pajama pants and a matching tank top because she doesn't plan on joining in, but Dee and Sam are both in sweatpants and plain T-shirts, Dee only teasing Sam a little bit about wanting to ditch the bra. Sam and Dee are both in their boots.

“Don't go easy on me,” Dee says, pulling her hair into a ponytail. Well, actually she tries to pull it into a ponytail, but she cringes inwardly as she ends up sending the band across the room when it slips from her fingers.

Charlie giggles as she gets the band for Dee, then walks up behind her and ties up her hair for her. “There you go, sweetie,” she says, then gives Dee's ass a little pat.

Dee gives Sam a look that hopefully says 'you tease me about that, you die' before she lunges. She's nervous that Sam will easily overpower her, but she's determined not to show it. As she's heading for him, Sam doesn't move, lets Dee land a front elbow shot to the gut, and he doubles over, grunting and breathing his way through it.

“Yes, I know,” Sam says, voice strained. “I should know you better than to think you've forgotten everything you ever learned about how and where to hit just because you're a girl now.”

“Damn right,” Dee says, showing no remorse. Because really, Sam has insulted her by just standing there. She allows herself a little pat on the back for catching Sam off-guard, but tries not to let it go to her head.

“Sorry,” Sam says with a grimace as he stands up. “Try again.”

This time when Dee goes for him, she twists her body at the last second and drops, hitting Sam at the inner thigh with her fist. She hears Sam hiss, but she doesn't stop. She stands back up again, grabbing his hand and spinning, aiming for bringing Sam down to the mat, but she overcompensates for her lack of height, weight, and strength, so she ends up sending them both to the mat with Sam on top of her.

Thankfully Sam catches himself with his left hand so he doesn't fall as hard as he could've onto her, but it's still a little painful. Now Dee feels a little stupid for having done that. She shakes it off as Sam rolls off and stands up again.

Dad had taught them well when they were kids and teenagers how to deal with changing bodies, and to try not to get upset over them, to work with them, learn from them, try to use them to your advantage.

Dad had said that getting upset only hurt you, that your body needs to learn what to do and you need to learn how to do it. There's no shame in it. No shame in learning your body's limitations if you work through them and do your best with those limitations.

So Dee gets back up, reevaluates her strength, weight, and center of gravity, which she's realizing is slightly lower than before, then goes after Sam again. She tries a kick, but it's too high, and Sam gives her a warning by grabbing her ankle, then letting go of it quickly enough that she doesn't fall because of it.

Dee gives Sam a smirk. He could've had her down on the mat just now. She doesn't know whether to be grateful or pissed that Sam didn't go ahead and pull her down. She needs to learn, damn it.

So she reevaluates, uses less power than she would've before to get her leg up that high, and gives Sam a light kick in his right side. She's still not quick enough, so this time Sam grabs her ankle, turns her leg just enough to put her completely off balance, and then gives a little pull to make sure she comes down on her ass instead of her back and head, letting go of her ankle once she's down.

Dee growls, feeling a flush of anger run through her, and gets back up again. She tries for a quick jab to Sam's neck, but Sam catches her hand, yanking her toward him, then wraps his arms around her. She tries to headbutt him, but forgets she's shorter now, and all that happens is the back of her head connects with Sam's collarbone.

It hurts. It's humiliating. It makes her furious, and she forgets everything about not getting upset, about working through this, and with a growling yell, she stomps on Sam's foot with the heel of her boot.

She feels some satisfaction when she hears Sam squeak in pain, but when he lets go of her, she knows it's because he's ready to let her go, not because he's in so much pain he lost his grip. She stands there with her back to Sam, panting hard and so mad that her chest hurts.

And, damn it, her eyes are burning. She bites her tongue, trying to keep from losing control of her emotions any more than she already has. She refuses to cry over this. She's not going to look at Sam or Charlie. She knows she'll lose it if she does.

“Okay, hang on,” Charlie says, waving her hands as she walks over to Dee.

Dee pulls at the hem of her T-shirt. She feels a little scared by her lack of abilities, but she doesn't want them to know she's scared, doesn't want them to know she's having trouble adjusting.

She doesn't want her old body back. Hell, no. And she knew it would be a big adjustment, but she was hoping the overwhelmingly vulnerable feeling she's got right now wouldn't be a huge issue.

Charlie stands in front of Dee, but doesn't try to force eye contact. “You're fighting like a guy. Fight like a girl,” she says, sounding much less sympathetic or pitying than Dee thought she would.

Dee looks up at her, forcing the tears to go away through sheer will. “I was trying,” she growls.

“No,” Charlie says, shaking her head. “You're fighting like a guy who's been shoved into a woman's body.”

Dee looks down at the mat, her eyes burning again. She wishes she could use telepathy to let Charlie know she should get tougher, change the mood before Dee bawls all over the place. If Charlie gets soft on her, she's going to cry.

“Fight like a girl,” Charlie repeats, this time using her index and middle fingers to shove Dee's right shoulder enough that Dee takes a few steps back.

Dee looks up at Charlie again, takes a deep cleansing breath, and raises her eyebrow at Charlie. “So I should bite him?” she challenges.

Charlie huffs. “I suppose you can if you want to, but that's not what I had in mind. You're a woman now. You have to change your range,” she says.

“Huh?” Dee asks, feeling ridiculous. Dee has been trained her whole life. She's been a hunter for as long as she can remember. Charlie's a computer geek.

“I'm a LARPer, remember?” Dee says, a knowing grin on her face.

Dee feels a little relief as the thought sinks in. “Oh, yeah.”

“Okay, you're fighting like a guy,” Charlie says as she takes Dee by the upper arms and moves her to the side. She turns to Sam. “I'm shorter, I'm not as strong as him, but you know that doesn't mean I can't beat him.”

“Yeah,” Dee says, trying hard not to say 'but there's a huge chance he'll beat you' in a snarky voice.

“When you fight guy-on-guy, you can be farther apart from each other because you're closely matched in height, weight, and reach,” Charlie says, then steps up to Sam, standing with only one foot of space between them.

Sam gets ready, his arms a little out to the side in a defensive posture, but Dee knows Sam won't hurt her. She doesn't need to remind Sam Charlie's not a fighter.

“Men let you get closer to them, because they don't see you as a threat most of the time,” Charlie says. “Use that. And also use your lack of height to throw them off. You're closer to their vulnerable spots like the throat, stomach, and crotch,” she says as she pokes Sam in the stomach.

Charlie lifts her knee, headed for Sam's crotch, but stops just in time, and Sam knows he could've just gotten a nut shot, so he gives her a grateful smile.

“Don't be afraid of cheap shots,” she says with a smirk.

“I have no problem with cheap shots,” Dee says, feeling like an idiot for needing this.

“Your center of gravity is lower than a man's, and also women tend to have better balance. Again, use that,” Charlie says. “Guys expect you to use your hands and arms at about the level of your upper torso, so overhand and underhand strikes work well, and you can put a lot of power into an overhand hit that'll make up for your lack of upper body strength compared to a man.”

Charlie throws her right hand out to the left side of Sam's head, then brings her hand down in an arc toward his neck, stopping just before she hits him.

“Now I can't really help you with monsters and all, but using your lower center of gravity and the ability to pull things down with you has to be of some use,” Charlie says. “And what about all the training you said your dad gave you as kids? You can't tell me he had you fighting like adults,” she says with a huff.

Dee feels a flush of embarrassment for forgetting that, but it's quickly followed by a flare of hope. “Uhm, yeah,” she says with a self-deprecating chuckle.

A quick look at Sam confirms that Sam had already figured that out, but he was being a nice little brother by not giving Dee a hard time for it.

Dee smiles. “That's just a slightly different way of moving than how dad taught us when we were kids,” she says. “I'm assuming the difference is because of the shorter arms for kids, but yeah, that's how Sam and I used to train.”

“Cool!” Charlie says. “Then go for it!” she says as she steps to the side, giving them room to move.

Dee runs up to Sam, jumps on him, wrapping her right leg around his left leg and pulling her ankle back up toward her, buckling Sam's knee. As they fall to the mat, Sam throws up his arms, but Dee already has her hand on his right shoulder, pushing down toward the mat as they hit, and with her right fist, she comes down in an arc, stopping just before she hits his left temple.

“Did you let me win?” Dee asks, using her tone of voice to make sure Sam knows he'd better not lie.

Sam blinks up at her, obviously surprised by what just happened. “Uhm, no, I didn't let you win.”

“Awesome!” Dee says, a huge smile on her face.

“Wait!” Charlie says, pointing at Dee's fist. “Hit with the heel and side of your fist instead of your knuckles,” she says as she demonstrates with her own hand.

Dee turns her wrist, then brings her fist down in an arc, trying out using her fist like a hammer instead of something to jab at someone.

Charlie walks up next to Dee and holds Dee's right shoulder, then grabs her elbow. “When you hit overhand, start by pulling your shoulder back some, then start at the elbow and fling your fist from the elbow down. It'll give your fist more speed and power than coming down the way you normally would.”

Dee tries again, using the technique that she now remembers Dad teaching her as a kid, pulling back at the last moment before hitting Sam in the neck. A grin spreads across her lips.

Charlie steps back a few feet, and it really was stupid of Dee to relax and enjoy her victory, because Sam takes the opportunity to catch her off-guard and twists his hips, tossing Dee off as he sits up, his forearm catching her stomach to shove her down to the mat on her back. He spins, flinging his right leg over her, then sitting down on her lower belly.

She panics, her eyes widening and her whole body tensing. She can't think of anything but getting Sam off of her, so she starts wildly hitting Sam's arms with her fists, kicking out, but not connecting with anything, her teeth clenched, a manic screech coming out of her.

“Hey!” Sam barks, startling Dee out of her unreasonable panic. “We just did this with Charlie last week,” he says, taking her wrists and holding them down on either side of her head.

Dee starts to panic again, and her breath stutters, her chest heaving. “Please! Sam, stop! Let me up! Stop!” she says, closer to crying than she'd like to be.

She knew she'd have to deal with stronger emotions, different hormones, but this crying is annoying her even though she still has yet to bawl all over the place.

“No,” Sam says with such a snotty little brother tone to it that the fight leaves Dee.

She relaxes into the mat, her eyes squeezing shut and her legs stilling. She hears Sam's instruction of “breathe,” and she takes a few cleansing breaths. When she opens her eyes, Sam smiles at her.

“Now show me what you did last week when you did such an awesome job of teaching Charlie how to hurt me,” Sam says with a nod.

It breaks the tension, and Dee chuckles, remembering a few of Charlie's shots connecting with Sam, and how Sam had been a good sport about it even though his lips had been thinned out tightly a couple times when he tried to work through the pain.

“Just try not to knock out my teeth or anything, okay?” Sam asks, his dimples showing as he grins.

“I'll think about it,” Dee says, then punches up, as if she's doing a one-handed victory punch into the air while standing.

With Sam's hand wrapped around her wrist, it pulls Sam off balance to her right, and Dee uses her right leg to curl around Sam's leg over his calf, pushes straight out from herself with her left arm like she's boxing, and the combination of moves sends Sam rolling to her right.

Sam doesn't let go of her wrists, but now she's on top. Sam's eyes widen and he hisses as Dee moves to knee him in the nuts, but she slows at the last moment, pushing down a bit with her knee into his crotch instead of connecting hard.

Sam's grip on her would've weakened if she'd connected, so Sam plays the part, loosens his grip, and Dee yanks her elbows in toward her stomach, pulling out of Sam's grip. Before Sam's recovered, she touches her index and middle fingers to the soft spot where his collarbone meets his neck, showing that she could've just incapacitated him more with a jab there.

Dee hears Charlie clapping and squealing out a “yay!” She turns to Charlie with a big grin on her face. She feels so relieved that she wants to hug both Sam and Charlie. She knows she shouldn't have let everything get to her like this, but she's so grateful she has these two people who love her so much, who are patient and ready to help her through it.

Charlie runs over and flops down onto the mat on her knees. She leans in and kisses Dee, grabbing Dee's neck to hold her in place. Dee lets Charlie control the kiss, enjoying the all-consuming way Charlie kisses. She moans into the kiss, reaching up to hold Charlie's left breast, kneading it a little.

“I don't know how I'm going to survive you two,” Sam grumbles, and Dee feels him scrambling away from her.

She had forgotten she was still between his legs, had forgotten he was there at all, but by the grin on Charlie's face when she pulls back away from the kiss, Charlie hadn't forgotten. Sam's cupping his crotch as he stands up awkwardly.

“I wanna fuck your pretty little pussy tonight,” Charlie says, that wonderfully evil grin on her face as her eyes cut to the side so she can watch Sam without being obvious about it.

“Fuck,” Sam growls as he stumbles off the mat and toward the door. “The least you could'a done was follow through with the nut shot if you were gonna suck face on the mat and talk like that,” he growls, his voice echoing as he walks down the hallway toward his room.

Charlie giggles, and Dee joins her, loving the whole display from Charlie. “I love you,” Dee says. “And it's only partly because you'd make the perfect evil overlord,” she adds with a gentle elbow jab to Charlie's arm.

Charlie fakes a gasp of surprise. “You have excellent taste in women, Dee,” she says, wrapping her arms around Dee's waist and slipping her hand down the back of Dee's sweatpants, her middle finger running over the top of Dee's ass crack where her brand new pair of pink boyshorts are covering her.

“Do you really wanna fuck me tonight?” Dee asks, shivering at Charlie's intimate touch.

Charlie pulls back, her eyes wide and a smile growing on her lips. “Is that on the table?”

Dee stutters, her stomach clenching. “Uhm, ah, do you have, uh, anything smaller than the...,” she trails off, holding her hands up as if she's holding a huge dildo, “big, large, kinda gigantic dildo?” she asks, wincing.

Charlie laughs, pulling Dee to her and kissing her neck affectionately. “I have a few more toys I haven't shown you yet, and yes, I have a smaller and smoother one we can start with.”

Dee lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. “Awesome,” she breathes. “I feel kinda dorky for being nervous about something teenage girls do all the time,” Dee says, her face flushing with heat.

“Oh, baby, don't feel dorky!” Charlie says, running her fingers through Dee's hair. “It's something unknown to you, something new, so of course you're going to be a little apprehensive about it even if you really do want to get fucked,” she says.

Charlie sounds so understanding, so reassuring that Dee relaxes. “I've dealt with pain before, so I don't really know why this is different,” Dee says, huffing at herself.

“Intimate pain is totally different,” Charlie says.

Dee huffs. “So on a scale of one to oh, my god, shoot me now, how does losing your virginity rate,” she asks.

She's never been with a virgin before. She's never seen a girl react to losing her virginity, but she has been with girls who were sensitive, who needed a lot of stimulation and foreplay because penetrative sex was a little difficult for them otherwise. Her own reaction is an unknown to her.

Charlie chuckles. “Don't worry so much, sweetie,” she says, then kisses the tip of Dee's nose. “Depending on who you're with, how much they know you, how much they care...,” she trails off, shaking her head. “The first time I was fucked with something bigger than a finger, I was with an amazing woman, as I've mentioned.”

Dee kind of wishes she could meet this woman, because whenever Charlie talks about her, the look on her face screams of the comfort she'd given Charlie.

“She got me so excited,” Charlie continues, “so out of my mind with arousal that I was begging for it, nearly threatening her with bodily harm if she didn't fuck me, and even then she kept me just on the edge of crazy for it as she went in slow.

“And I swear I'm not lying when I tell you it didn't hurt. It might be different for you, but I was so turned on, and she was doing so much to me beside fucking me that it felt more like a pressure with a burn to it.”

“And it was good even the first time?” Dee asks.

Charlie makes an 'eh' sound. “She was good, and I enjoyed the benefits of that,” Charlie says with a sheepish smile. “She was experienced, I wasn't, and your first time is never perfect, but she made it as good as it could be, and I had a great time even if it wasn't the most perfect ever.”

Dee looks down at Charlies tank top. “Sorry about this. It's just that I've been with more than one girl who complained about her first time, how much it hurt,” Dee says.

Charlie huffs. “And did they mention they were with an asshole? That they're glad they've dumped the bastard?”

Dee snorts. “Well, they didn't stop having sex, so I'm assuming it didn't kill their sex lives.”

Charlie growls. “It's men like that who give me so much pussy to choose from,” she says.

Dee chuckles, then pokes Charlie in the side. “That had better be past tense,” she says, looking Charlie in the eye, a grin on her face.

Charlie smiles. “Of course it is. Yours is the only pussy I want. And it's a very pretty little pussy that I can't wait to fuck. And I can't wait to show you how amazing this can be,” she says, her eyes darkening with arousal.

“Well,” Dee drawls, “we already know Sam's going to be busy for a while, so I'll race you up there,” she says, jumping up and running for their room.

Charlie laughs, scrambling after her. “Sam's probably already finished. No way he lasted very long with that look on his face and the tone of his voice,” she says, her voice loud and full of glee as she runs.

\- - -

Dee makes it to the room first, throwing the door open and already pulling her clothes off by the time Charlie gets there. “Stop making me think of Sam's dick when I wanna get fucked by you,” Dee complains.

“Leave your panties and bra on,” Charlie says, pulling her own clothes off. “I wanna lick you through them!”

Dee moans, pulling her boots off and flinging them over by the dresser. Her socks go flying in the same general direction, followed by her sweatpants, the shirt already crumpled in the corner of the room.

Charlie catches her by the waist with an arm wrapped around her, pulls Dee toward her, then grinds against her.

“Are you naked?” Dee asks, reaching around to feel for clothes.

“Yup,” she says just as Dee's hand curves around her right hip.

“Mmm,” Dee moans, her eyes falling closed. She practically melts against Charlie as Charlie's hand goes down the front of her boyshorts, her fingers finding her pussy and playing with her clit. “Yeah,” she breathes.

Charlie's fingers move down to Dee's hole, not pushing in, but teasing just outside. “I'm going to fuck this soon, but first I wanna play with it for a while,” she says, her voice deep with arousal.

Dee's still thoroughly enjoying imagining Charlie fucking her when Charlie pulls her hand out, comes around to Dee's front, and drops to her knees. She licks Dee's panties just over her pussy. “Oh, fuck,” Dee growls, her legs shaking a little. Dee can't believe that feels so good through the panties.

Charlie reaches up and rubs her thumb over Dee's left nipple through the fabric of the bra. Dee doesn't know what to do with her hands, so her left hand flutters uselessly at her side while her right hand finds Charlie's hair and she runs her fingers over Charlie's scalp.

Dee is lost in those eyes looking up at her, the feeling of Charlie's tongue teasing her through the panties. Charlie's tongue alternates between poking at her clit and sweeping up and down the seam of her lips.

Charlie stops, sits back, looking up at Dee for a moment before standing up, Dee's right hand falling to her side. Charlie pulls the right cup of Dee's bra down, Dee's nipple showing, then Charlie leans down and licks it.

Dee gasps, her back arching. Charlie sucks on the nipple, reaching around Dee's back and undoing the clasps on her bra. She lets the bra fall to the floor between them, then puts her hands on Dee's upper arms, starts pushing her backward, headed toward the bed. Dee lets Charlie direct her, sitting down when the backs of her knees hit the bed.

“Get comfortable in the middle of the bed with your head on the pillows,” Charlie says, waving at Dee with her right hand while her left hand trails down to her own pussy and starts playing with her clit.

Dee forgets for a moment what she's supposed to do as she watches Charlie play with her clit. Charlie pulls her hand away, and by the time Dee looks up at her, Charlie has a smirk on her face. Dee's caught.

She remembers what she's been told to do, then grins. “Yes, ma'am,” Dee says as she crawls backward on the bed, getting to where Charlie had told her to go.

Charlie walks over to one of her dresser drawers and pulls out a purplish-pink dildo that Dee had never known she had. It's fairly slim and not all that long, so Dee knows Charlie picked it because it's made for someone's first time.

Charlie comes back over to the bed, opens her bedside drawer, pulls out the lube, then sets both the dildo and the lube on the bed to Dee's left.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Charlie says, crawling onto the bed and getting between Dee's legs.

“God, you're so sexy,” Dee drawls, enjoying the view of a naked Charlie sitting on her knees between Dee's legs.

Dee smiles when Charlie does a happy little wiggle because of Dee's praise. Charlie reaches down, hooks her fingers under the waistline of Dee's panties, then gently and slowly pulls them up her long legs, then down her calves. Charlie pulls them over her feet, then lifts the panties up to her face, sniffs them, then licks the crotch.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Dee groans. “I've always appreciated girls that are into the panty sniffing thing,” she says, her clit twitching.

Charlie spreads her own legs, then reaches in to finger herself, watching Dee as she pushes her nose into the crotch of Dee's panties, sniffing them as her hips twitch, her fingers pushing into her hole.

“Couldn't help it,” Charlie says. “Your pussy smells so nice.”

Dee watches closely as Charlie pushes in and out of herself, glancing up to watch Charlie licking the panties some more. Charlie's not just playing the part, not just using the panties to turn on Dee. She's really getting a kick out of it, and Dee loves it.

“Here, taste how wet you make me,” Charlie says, pulling her fingers out and reaching toward Dee's lips.

Dee sits up, more than ready to get a taste. She opens her mouth, sucking Charlie's fingers in, then using her tongue to get all the slick she can from Charlie's skin. Charlie moans as Dee sucks hard, but Dee is taken by surprise when Charlie uses the fingers of her left hand to play with Dee's clit.

“Mmm,” Dee moans, slowly pulling off Charlie's fingers and falling back against the pillows. She reaches up to play with her own breasts.

Charlie tosses the panties onto the floor, then uses her right thumb to play with Dee's clit while the fingers of her left hand move down further to gently rub around Dee's hole. Dee lets her legs fall open wider.

Dee squeaks as Charlie pushes her middle finger into Dee's hole, but it's more out of surprise than anything else, and she tilts her hips up toward Charlie, hoping for more.

“You're already so wet,” Charlie says, pushing her index finger in alongside her middle finger.

Dee squeezes her own left nipple, watching intently as Charlie's breasts sway gently with her movements. Her toes curl against the sheets as Charlie starts fingerfucking her with both fingers.

“It's all your fault,” Dee teases. “You're getting met wet again, so you're gonna have to clean up your mess,” she says with a smirk.

Charlie chuckles. “I'm going to be getting you a whole lot messier before I even think about cleaning you up, Dee,” Charlie says with a leer.

Dee's clit twitches, and Charlie speeds up her pace some. Dee's hips start rocking down onto Charlie's fingers, and Dee notices that her own tits are bouncing with the movement of her hips.

“Oh, yeah. Not to sound narcissistic or anything,” Dee says, watching her own tits bounce, “but that's fucking hot.”

Charlie giggles, getting a good look at Dee's bouncing tits. “Arch your back a little,” she says.

Dee does, and then moans at how much more her tits bounce. “Awesome!”

Charlie suddenly speeds up the movements of her thumb on Dee's clit, making Dee gasp and moan, her hips losing their rhythm. She doesn't even notice that Charlie's fingers have slipped out of her until something else is rubbing over her lips, dipping between them and spreading her slick.

Dee groans, realizing it's the dildo. “Ngh, yeah,” she says, anything she'd been about to say flying out of her head.

“Does that feel good on your pussy?” Charlie asks, rubbing at an agonizingly slow pace, backing off on the speed she's using to rub Dee's clit.

“Mmm, yeah, feels good,” Dee says, her hands running over her sides and her stomach, wanting more.

“You're going to have to beg prettier than that, baby,” Charlie sing-songs.

Dee huffs. She trails her fingers down and around her sides, even further down and uses a hand to grab each ass cheek, then spreads them. “More, please, more,” she says.

Charlie just keeps up the maddening slow pace, sliding the dildo over Dee's slit a few times, then pushing just in between again and running the smooth plastic up and down over Dee's hole.

“Nah, I think I'll play with you longer,” Charlie says, sounding like she has all the time in the world.

Dee growls, tries to use her hips to push down, get Charlie to do something more, something to get her closer to coming, because she'd really, really like to come. “Please!” she whimpers when it doesn't work.

“You want this inside your pussy?” she asks, dipping in just the tinniest little bit, then out again.

“Oh, you're such a fucking tease,” Dee says, half chuckle, half huff, but there's a grin on her face. Her toes are curling into the sheets.

“I just really enjoy making you squirm until you come screaming my name,” Charlie says.

“Oh, yeah, make me come,” Dee moans, trying to spread her legs wider. “Please make me come!” she says, wishing she was as good at the puppy face as Sammy. Then she promptly thinks about Charlie all sexy and naked to get the mental image of Sam out of her head.

Charlie starts rubbing up and down, catching on Dee's hole each time she goes over it, but not pushing in any further. “I still think you can beg prettier than that,” Charlie says with a smirk. “I'll fuck your pussy when I think you really want it.”

Dee growls. “Oh, come on! I really do. I want it. Fuck all that shit I said earlier about being nervous. I want this. Really!” she says, her eyes widening, her hips twitching up toward Charlie.

“That sounds a little demanding,” Charlie chides with a scowl.

“Mmm, oh, fuck, please!” Dee begs, lifting her legs, pulling her knees back and up so that she's spread as wide as she can be for Charlie, feet in the air, toes curling.

Charlie starts dipping in a little deeper on each pass of Dee's hole, but that's it. Dee starts keening, begging with her eyes and hoping that her face shows she's totally for this, that she wants it, because in this moment, she doesn't want anything else more than this.

“Please! Please fuck me, please!” Dee begs, then yelps as Charlie pushes in a little further. It's still not enough, though. “More, please, more!” she says as her thighs shake, her breath stutters, her stomach quivers. She wraps her hands around her thighs just above her knees, holding her own legs open as wide as she can for Charlie.

“You're being such a good girl for me,” Charlie says.

The praise warms Dee to her core. She pushes up with her hips harder, trying to get more, but Charlie doesn't change the pace on either her clit or her hole with the dildo. She does start going a little deeper, this time pushing in further each time instead of pulling out all the way. Two thrusts in, one tug out each time.

“Yeah! Yeah! More! Please more!” Dee chants. “Fuck me! Please fuck me, Charlie, please!” she begs.

Dee feels as if she's falling apart all over and Charlie's the only one who can fix it. Her body is tensing even more, and she knows she's close to coming, but she needs more.

“That's my good girl,” Charlie says, then pushes in again, this time a little more firmly.

Dee gasps, something inside her burning, a little pain that's more like a tightening of her body than actual pain. Just as she's about to beg for more, Charlie doubles her pace on Dee's clit and fucks in and out of her with the dildo, not going any deeper, just fucking in and out at the same depth and driving Dee crazy with it.

Dee yelps, lets go of her legs, grabs onto the sheets as if she'll fly away without them grounding her, and she comes so hard and so fast that she actually screams. Her hips keep thrusting up at Charlie, but Dee knows her rhythm is off, and she doesn't care because it feels way too good.

She feels her breasts bouncing, and it feels and looks awesome, her body jerking and twisting as she rides out the last waves of pleasure.

Dee doesn't know when Charlie takes the dildo out of her, but the next time she looks up at Charlie, her clit twitches as she sees Charlie has the dildo in her mouth, sucking off Dee's slick. Dee realizes Charlie's thrusting her own hips, and when she looks down, she sees Charlie has the fingers of her right hand inside her pussy, fucking herself with them.

Dee groans, not able to do much more than watch as her legs fall to the bed, her thighs sore from the position they'd been in, but that's perfectly fine with her. The show is awesome.

“Do I taste good enough to get off on?” Dee asks as innocently as she can given that her voice is wrecked.

Charlie's mouth is full, but she moans and nods, her eyes falling closed as she fingerfucks herself faster, thrusts faster.

“Wanna see you come, and I wanna taste you,” Dee says, getting up on her elbows with a great deal of effort. “Can I taste you? Can I lick your fingers clean after you come?”

Charlie whines around the dildo, her body shuddering, her hips losing rhythm as she twitches and groans through her own orgasm. She shoves her fingers inside herself hard, letting the dildo fall from her lips so she can pant thought the last of it.

Her tits are bouncing with the tremors going through her body, and Dee drinks in everything, watching intently to the whole thing. Then Charlie opens her eyes, looks at Dee, and moves her fingers around inside herself.

Dee sits the rest of the way up, hoping to get a taste. “Please let me taste you,” she says again, not wanting to miss the opportunity.

Charlie slowly slides her fingers out of her pussy, then holds them up, messy and wet. Dee lunges forward, sucking the fingers into her mouth and moaning around them, filling her mouth with the taste of Charlie.

After a little while of sucking, Charlie pulls her fingers out of Dee's mouth, then pushes Dee back onto the pillows, following her down to lie beside her. She pulls the blanket up over them, and Dee snuggles up against her.

“So did you like it?” Charlie asks, her voice already sounding sleepy.

“Hell. Yeah.” Dee says. “I wanna do that again. And I wanna do it to you. And I wanna try the strap-on from both sides.”

Charlie chuckles. “Awesome.”

Dee closes her eyes, not staying awake for long, but basking in the afterglow while she holds onto Charlie. While she holds onto the love of her life.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue

Two days and tons of sex later, they've managed to send Sam to his room with tight pants a grand total of five more times, the last time with him loudly announcing there would be seriously horrible payback if this continued any longer.

“Dee,” Charlie says, interrupting Dee's research at the library table.

Dee gladly accepts an interruption from research any time, any place. She looks up at Charlie and smiles. “Perfect timing! Sam's making me read this entire section,” she says, poking at the book like it's a mean and terrible object.

“I have something kind of important I wanna tell you,” she says.

Dee's stomach clenches. She notices that Charlie looks a little pale, and even though she doesn't seem upset, something is definitely up. Dee stands up, puts her hands on Charlie's shoulders to give comfort.

“What's wrong, baby?” she asks, looking Charlie in the eye, trying to get what she can from body language.

“Nothing's wrong,” she says with a smile. “I'm pregnant,” Charlie says, her body nearly vibrating.

Dee feels her chest get tight, her breath getting caught in her throat. She looks at Charlie's smile, her eyes, and Dee realizes now that Charlie looks this way because she's thrilled. Dee feels one last thing click into place inside her, something else she told herself she couldn't ever have.

“We're going to be mommies?” Dee asks, voice so soft it's a whisper. She feels her eyes burn, her throat feels like it's going to close right off, but it's not because she's terrified.

“Are you okay with this?” Charlie asks, and Dee knows by the way her body is shivering, she's barely containing her excitement.

Dee throws her arms around Charlie and pulls her into a hug, shoving her face into Charlie's hair and kissing her head. “I'm way more than okay with this,” she says.

When she hears Charlie whisper a tiny “really?” as she holds her tight, she pulls back to look Charlie in the eye.

“Yes, really!” Dee says, putting all her conviction into it. “I'm going to be a mommy! And you're going to be a mommy!” she says, then the whole name situation hits her and she shakes her head. “Well, actually we should probably be mommy and mama so we don't confuse the baby.”

Charlie's smile gets absolutely huge and she throws her arms around Dee's waist, hugging her tightly. “Oh, I'm so happy you're happy about this!”

“I'm thrilled. I'm ecstatic!” Dee says, her voice shaky. She lets out a huff of amazement. “I'm gonna be a mommy!” she says, trying it out on her lips again, wanting to hear it over and over again for a long time.

“I took about ten different tests last night and this morning to be sure before I said anything,” Charlie says.

“When did you get the tests?” Dee asks, pushing Charlie back enough that she can look her in the eye.

Charlie grins. “While you were checking out the new dresses at Walmart yesterday, I went over to the pharmacy section and got them, then I stuffed them in my backpack,” she says.

Dee chuckles, her mouth sore from how big her smile is. “It is mine, right?” she asks, already knowing it has to be hers, but grinning like an idiot at Charlie.

Charlie punches Dee's arm. “Yes, it's yours, you jerk!” she says with a grin.

Dee shakes her head. “I just wanted to hear you say it,” she says, then leans down to kiss Charlie.

“Damn it!” Sam says from somewhere over by the doorway. “You knew I was coming in here, didn't you?” he asks, and then starts to leave, grumbling as he goes.

“Wait!” Dee yells, stopping Sam in his tracks. She looks at Charlie. “Can I tell him?”

Charlie nods. “Of course!”

“Tell me what?” Sam asks, walking back into the library.

Dee feels like she's going to explode with excitement. “You're going to be an uncle! Charlie's pregnant!” she says, bouncing on her toes.

“No!” Sam says, his face lighting up with a huge smile. “This better not be a joke,” he says.

“No joke,” Charlie says. “Ten out of ten pregnancy tests I took say I'm pregnant.”

Sam lumbers toward them, his arms out, and he gathers the two of them into a hug. Dee and Charlie wrap their arms around him too.

“We're gonna have a bigger family,” Sam muses, sounding a little watery.

“Now if only I could get Dee to make an honest woman outta me,” Charlie says teasingly with a little pinch to the back of Dee's neck.

Dee stiffens. “Do you want me to make an honest woman out of you?” she asks, trying not to sound too overly hopeful.

“Oh, my god,” Sam whines. “Would you two please do this right,” he says as he pulls out of the hug, steps back, and crosses his arms over his chest. “You both want it, but you've both been waiting for the other one to say something for weeks now. One of you say it right or I'm going to die of anticipation.”

Charlie looks up at Dee, neither of them surprised by Sam's reaction or the fact that he could read something like that so easily from the both of them. “Will you marry me, Dee Winchester?” Charlie asks.

Dee's chest is totally going to explode. It's all she's ever wanted. She has it. All of it. There's no way in hell she's letting it go.

“Yes, and I've already picked out the place in California I want to get married,” Dee says with a sheepish grin.

“I knew it!” Sam says, pointing at Dee and laughing.

Dee feels herself blush, but she's enjoying the look on Charlie's face too much to smack Sam for knowing her so well.

“The honeymoon spot and everything. I've planned it in my head for weeks, just like my telepathic little brother says,” Dee says.

Charlie's face lights up even more, the smile coming back in full force. “I love you,” she says, kissing Dee gently.

“I still love you more,” Dee says when they pull out of the kiss.

“Sasquatch is invited, right?” Charlie asks, nodding toward Sam.

“To the wedding, yes, but not to the honeymoon,” Dee says, a sly grin on her lips. “We'll get him a room far enough away that he can't count the number of orgasms by the number of screams he hears.”

Sam snorts. “When do we leave?” he asks, making an overly obvious subject change.

Dee kisses Charlie's forehead, then turns to Sam with her arm around Charlie's shoulders. “The places I've picked aren't all that popular, and I figured we could pick out everything we want to do and wear and eat while we're there. With Tulley's generous donation, we don't have to worry about being able to pay for a nice hotel or a couple of wedding dresses and a tux.”

“I'll go pack our sex toys,” Charlie chirps as she slips out from under Dee's arm, slapping Sam's ass as she passes him.

“I'm going to find a way to get you two back for this someday,” Sam says.

“You just keep telling yourself that, Sammy,” Dee says, walking up to Sam and hugging him. She shoves her face into his shirt, snuggling into him. “You're an awesome brother,” she says into his shirt, holding on for just long enough that Sam's probably tearing up again, then turns and follows after Charlie.

Sam huffs. “How am I supposed to get revenge after you do something like that?” Sam whines loudly.

Dee chuckles as she heads off to their room to pack, already thinking about baby names and wondering how soon is too soon for a baby leather jacket.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> When I saw The Prompt at spnkink_meme, I immediately wanted to challenge myself with it.
> 
> I'm female, and while I'm more comfortable with being female now, as a kid I strongly identified with, played with, and fit in with boys nearly exclusively.
> 
> Some of the thoughts in Dean's head about gender issues were the same things I've dealt with, and in particular the issues of what gender reassignment surgery entails and also being a tomboy and dealing with sneering little girls who thought it odd I played with boys.
> 
> I'm still more comfortable around guys. I still fit in with them better. I'm also bisexual, which has made it easier to keep myself relatively safe from bigotry, though of course it's still out there.
> 
> In writing this fic, trying to “be” Dean and see things from his point of view in a situation where he wanted the exact opposite of what I wanted was interesting, fun, and definitely a challenge.
> 
> There were plenty of things written into this fic where I just had to put myself in his place and work it out, other situations where I just took my experiences/viewpoints and flipped my ideas from male to female.
> 
> Thanks to the anonymous poster who prompted this fic at the spnkink-meme [HERE](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/79365.html?thread=29501189#t29501189).
> 
> Full Prompt by Anonymous: Dean has always known she was female but after revealing it to John and receiving a bad reaction (from scolding to beating, it's up to writer), Dean decided to hide it deep inside. She is attracted to girls anyway, so it's not a big deal right? Only it is, because he hates his dick and his tiny chest. After being rebuilt by Castiel as a man after his time in hell, Dean feels even more ashamed of himself, because obviously even God/Angels think he should be male.
> 
> Then comes Charlie, who notices something is off. Eventually, she figures it out, and her mission is to help 'Dee' transition (the level of transition is up to writer) and love herself. Along the way, Charlie discovers she starts to have feelings for Dee. Dee is oblivious, because she thought that Charlie was only a lesbian for cis!females (or 'real women' as Dee thinks because she's not as knowledge about that 'gender stuff'). The girls start to date and have smexytimes.
> 
> 10 Bonus points for including Rhonda Hurley and the pink panties, 20 Bonus points for Castiel offering to help Dee physically, transition (whether she does or not, up to writer), 100 Bonus points for Sam not being as understanding as he should (like accusing Dean of only pretending so he could fuck Charlie, not understanding that Dee can be a transwoman and lesbian, or just being a dick), +Infinity Bonus points for Charlie becoming pregnant and both excited to become mommies


End file.
